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OB, 



King Charles the Second's Merry Days: 
a 3Surletta, fa €&tee acts. 



AS PERFOKMED AT 

THE OLYMPIC NEW THEATRE, 

Newcastle Street, Strand. 



WRITTEN BY 

WILLIAM THOMAS MONCRIEF, 



AUTHOR OF 



u GIOVANNI IN LONDON —" DIAMOND ARROW, ,- 
" ALL AT COVENTRY," fyc. 



lonDon x 

PRINTED FOR JOHN LOWNDES, 25, BOW STREET, 
COTENT GARDEN. 



1819. 
(price two shillings and sixpence.) 







Printed by W. Smith, King Street, Seven Dials. 



INVENT PORTUM. 



TO THE PUBLIC, 

Whose Approbation of the general Conduct of the Performance* of 

THE OLYMPIC THEATRE 

Has been the most flattering Reward to the Proprietor for his anxious 



THIS DRAMA 



IS MOST GRATEFULLY AND 



RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 



Stratford-placEj, 
Feb. 13, 1818. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Charles the Second, King of England* • • • Mr. Carles. 

John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester Mr. Elliston. 

George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham • • • • Mr. Elliot. 

Dunstable, a Country Actor. Mr. M'Keon. 

Starvemouse, an old Miser • • Mr. Knight. 

Salaam, Factotum to Rochester and Buck- 
ingham Mr. Sloman. 

Jeremiah Thin, the Miser's Man • Mr. Maxwell. 

Amen Squeak, Parish-Clerk, Beadle, Bell. 

man, Sexton, fyo. of Newport. Mr. Henderson 

Easy, Valet to the Countess ...-■• Mr. Widdicomb. 

Gruff Barney, Ostler and Chamberlain at 

the Inn > * Mr. G. Crisp. 

Muddle, Mayor of Newport Mr. Lee. 

TmJrin 1 ■*, S Mr. Meehan. 

ptTghtaa] Fmmm - { Mr. Bedford 

The Countess of Lcvelaugh Mrs. Edwin. 

Lady Gay Miss Phillips. 

Silvia Golden, Ward of Starvemouse Miss Stevenson. 

Aunt Rebecca Mrs. Pearce. 

Bell, Bar-maid at the Inn Miss Tanstali. 



ROCHESTER; 

OR, 



A C T I. 

SCENE I. 

Interior of the Horns Inn, Newport; on the Nezto- 
market Road. 



Rochester, in the Character of a Landlord. 

Starvemouse, Joskin, and Ploughtail, discovered 
drinking, 

GLEE, (omnes.) 

Let proud ones sneer, and great ones grin, 
Life's greatest comfort is an Inn, 
There the blithe landlord's ready smiles, 
Drown all our cares, repay our toils ; 
There his wife's voice, no husband fears, 
No children's cries distract his ears, 
But news and chit-chat, laugh and song 
Till morning's dawn, his joys prolong. 

And oh, what more can man desire 
Than sitting by a cheerful fire ; 
On oaken settle quaffing ale, 

Or smoking pipe, ©r old catch singing 
Or conning news, or telling tale, 

To hear the waiter's gay bells ringing, 

Ding dong ! 

Jos. Main good entertainment here ; master plough- 
tail, and main nice heuse too; I wish it may answer, 






2 ROCHESTER; OR, 

Plough. INeighbour Joskin, (drinks) our's be a rare 
good landlord, that's for sariin. 

Jos. JEcod, he be a cruel funny chap— he does run 
on, and joke so; and then, he's a woundy great 
favorite wi' all our women folk ! 

Plough. E'es he be ! 

Jos. Then there be the waiter — odsflesh ! — now he 
be as droll a chap as t'other be — It do often puzzle I, 
to find out whether man be measter, or measter man ! 

Starve. Talking of men — my man Jeremiah Thin 
cometh, and I must go. 

Enter Jeremiah Thin, with a lanthorn. 

Starve, Hast thou brought a lanthorn here, to light 
my steps. 

Thin. I have. 

Starve. What with a bit of rush-light in it. 

Thin. I have, 

-Starve Here's a burning enormity ! — On a save-all, 
verily, thou wilt save nothing ! — you wish to bring me 
to the dogs — thou naughty Baal ! Blow it out. 

Thin 1 will. 

Starve. Now it is out, we can go out. 

Jos. We'll go with you— master landlord ! 

Starve, Do not waste thy breath, for it is precious — 
and see ; the man advanceth ! 

Enter Rochester. 

Roch. (speaking without) — Look to the guests above 
there, you know it's ray particular wish every one 
should be accommodated to their heart's desires ! 

Jos. Measter Wilmot, I be main glad to see thee 
lad, I was just wishing for thee, to know what we ha' 
to pay like ? 

Roch. We will speak of that another time ; your 
presence .here amply repays me all — and while you 
meet pleasant company, a good bill of fare, and 
rational entertainment — let me presume to hope, my 
humble house, may again and again be gladdened by 
your coming ! 

Starve. I will come, so long as the bill does not. 

Roch. To-morrow night, we hold a trifling festival 
— 'tis our house warming — I shall expect you all — 
nay, no denial — we shall set a dance on foot and have 
a feast—so bring your wives and daughters. 



CHARLES Hud's MERRY DAYS. 3 

Plough. Well now, that be what I call main kind 
and friendly of you; and I'll bring my old dame, dang 
me, if I don't. 

Starve. A feast!— I will come— the teeth do not 
decay with mastication. — We will abide no longer 
Jeremiah, but hence to Mouldy Hall. 

Roch. Rey I where are all my rascals ! Is this the 
way my guests are suffered to depart — here, Balaam ! 
— Yiiliers. 



Enter Buckingham. 

Buck. Did you call ? 

Roch. Oh ! you're here, at last Sirrah ! are you ? 
—but where is that Hussey Bell — i might as well have 
nobody about me— Come, Sirrah, assist me in seeing 
these worthy friends of our's out — and that rascal 
Balaam too— why Balaam ! — Balaam, 1 say — this way 
my friends. 

(Exeunt Rochester and Buckingham, shewing 
out Starvemouse, Thin, Joskin, PloughtaiJ, 
&cj 

Enter Balaam. 

Bui. Hey ! Did any body call ? — Bles&me ! — Nobody 
here ! — Why I'm sure I heard somebody cry out Ba- 
laam ! — what a lost sheep I am. — Yes, I've been a great 
sinner in ray time — and what's worse, there are no signs 
of my mending —My master, Lord Rochester, and his 
friend, the Duke of Buckingham, having been banished 
by the King from Court, for their graceless doings- 
have come down here incog; and set up this inn, 
where they make all the farmers drunk, and I'm 
obliged to be an accomplice. — Yes, if I don't break 
the commandments, they break my head. — Oh, my 
conscience, begins to smite me — I must reform, or I'm 
ruined — Eh, bless me, here they come— let me get 
out of the way. 

[Exit Balaam. 

Enter Rochester and Buckingham. 

Roch. Ha ! ha! ha! ha ! — Cupid smiles upon us — 
Business thrives apace. — Weil, mv Lord Duke, now 
that we are alone, wnat says your Grace, is not this 



4 ROCHESTER; OR 

life more sweet than that of Courts ?— Tush man, the 
golden age is come again—Beauty our only search, 
and love our sole employment, we lead the life of 
Gods ; let the splenetic Charles sigh o'er his gallery 
of painted beauties .—We woo pure nature lo our 
bosoms, and are blest.— In Courts 'tis all deceit and cere- 
mony ; here, all is pastoral simplicity and innocence. 

Buck. Yes; mighty innocent, indeed! 

Easy, (without) Here, house !— Landford !— Wai- 
ter! 

Roch. An arrival !— Run yon rogue, and let them 
know we can accommodate them— Nay, away with 
you— to-day you know, I'm master— to-morrow' conies 
your turn ! 

Buck. Well, my word is pledged^ but i'faith you 
work me rarely.— (Bells ring.) Coming your Honours i 
Coming ! 

[Exit Buckingham. 

Roch. So— Having got rid of Buckingham for a 
while, let me enquire what game that country Cupid 
of mine, has sprung up for me to-day — here, Balaam ! 
fc Balaam ! come hither, rascal. 

Enter Balaam. 

BaL Here I am ! 

Roch. Produce tlie bill of fare for the day, rogue ? 
and let me know what flowers of beauty's garden bloom 
in this paradise. 

BaL The bill of fare, my lord. 

Roch Aye, Sir, your bill of the fair of Newport— 
the chart of the voyage of discovery in search of 
beauty— though I've constituted you a cupid, I didn't 
intend you should be a blind one — come the list my 
chubby cheek'd cherub — the list ! the list ! 

BaL There it is my lord. 

Roch. (reading) Mrs. Buttercup, a grazier's wife, 
in the valley — fair — fat — and — — Psha ! never mind her 
age — with two or three acres of cheek — a mountain of 
neck — and an ocean of other charms — hem! — Mrs. 
Buttercup won't do for me — I've no sort of ambition 
to attempt the conquest of such a world of beauty — 
I'll leave her to Buckingham — " a grazier's wife in 
the valley" — there let her graze, I will not be her 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 5 

dear ; what have we next ? Sally Slim, the sexton's 
daughter— psha ! she won't do, she's all bone. But 
hey^ what's this ? " Miss Silvia Golden, a rich heiress 
of eighteen — sweet eighteen ! handsome, interesting, 
accomplished, and inexperienced, ward of old itarve- 
mouie, the miser ; courted by a strolling player, and 
guarded by an old dragonly duenna of an aunt, who, 
with the miser and his man, effectually prevent any one 
seems: her.' 4 * Indeed ! then Til see her to-night. 

BaL Nay, my lord, you surely wouldn't go to attempt 
such a thing ; consider such a young creature, so beau- 
tiful and so interesting. 

Roch. 1 do — and that makes me resolved not to 
lose a moment in becoming acquainted with her — 
" Young — inexperienced ;" how delightful — " beauti- 
ful" — charming, I'm in rapture; oh, that sly old rogue, 
Starvemouse. 

BaL Poor young creature ! 

Roch. Courted by a strolling player ; egad, the fel- 
low may carry her off; he'd better not let me catch him 
at his tricks. If I do, I shall trim his jacket rarely 
for him. 

Buckingham without. 

Buck. This way— this way ! 

Roch. Vanish ! company approach ; wait my further 
orders without — and d'ye hear Sir, breathe a single 
syllable of this to the Duke, and I'll break every bone 
in your body. 

Bah Oh, lord ! I'm born to suffer. 

[Exit Balaam. 

Buck. This way, ladies, this way ! 

Roch. Petticoats, by all my hopes ; and fair ones too, 
and that infernal fellow Buckingham sticking as close 
to them as their pins ; oh, I must interfere here, I see. 

Enter Buckingham, showing in the Countess and Lady 
Gay, in travelling dresses , and Easy following, 
with portmanteau. 

This way, ladies, this way. You can carry your 
ladies' portmanteau, young man, into the bar, it will 
be safe there for the present. 

Buck. What would you please to take, ladies ? 

Roch. Yes; what would you please to take, ladies? 



6 ROCHESTER ; OR 

Buck, 1 can attend on the ladies, Sir; you're wanted 
in the smoking parlour. 

Roch. indeed; you were there last; and they're 
calling for returns; so I think you'd better go back to 
them—- 1 can attend to the ladies, I thank you. 

Buck. But, Sir, the ladies were giving me an order. 

Hock. And now, Sir, I give you an order— leave the 
room. 

Buck. Oh, the devil take the fellow, he has me on 
the hip. 

Roch. Well, Sir, why an'tyou gone—why don't you 
leave the room ? who's' master here 1 should be glad to 
know.— The ladies have something they wish to reveal 
to me in private. 

Buck. Well, Sir, if I must go- 
Easy without. 

East/. House ! why house I say ! 

Buck. Coming. 

\_Exit Buckingham. 

Roch. Ladies ! I beg you ten thousand pardom ! 
very extraordinary this conduct of my waiter, but he's 
a very impudent fellow ! 

Count. That I'll be sworn he is— and if I'm not very 
much mistaken, the master seems as extraordinary and 
impudent as the man. 

Roch. I cannot describe to you, ladies, the pleasure 
I feel at the preference you give me, to have the hap- 
piness of taking you in delights me. 

Count. We have no doubt of it. 

Roch. I don't like that sneer — these are evidently 
no common mortals — out of the beaten way of my oc- 
cupation, ladies, you are welcome. — The star that led 
you hither was a propitious one, both to yourself and 
me; — when beauty like yours approaches our house 
we act the host for love, and not for money. 

Count. Pretty explicit indeed. 

Roch. And wish to be regarded rather as some gal- 
lant Knight, that would keep open castle for wandering 
beauty, than a hireling landlord. 

Count. A monstrous high flown wish upon my life — 
but my good sir, however anxious we may be to oblige 
you, we are not quite so Quixotic as to mistake an in» 
for a castle— or a landlord for a knight errant. 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 1 

Lady Gay. No— no— excuse us, therefore, gallant 
Knight, if we retire— we need repose— where is your 
chambermaid ? 1 beg your pardon,— the attendant 
damsel of this castle, 1 mean. 

Roch. She shall attend you— here, chambermaid ! 

Enter Gruff Barney in a smock frock, with a lanthorn 
and pitchfork. 

Bar. Any body want to be shewn to their rooms ? 
— Wait till I light the lanthorn — I've put up all the 
beasts ! 

Count. Not all surely, fellow, or you wouldn't be at 
liberty — a most extraordinary chambermaid this, upon 
my honor. 

Roch. S'deatb, sir, leave the room. 

Bar. Well, there's no accounting for taste — I should 
ha' thought now the gentlewomen maught ha' lik'd 
such a young chap as me to see them to their rooms — 
but I can go and rub down their nags — 'tis all the 
same. 

Roch. Begone sirrah \ 

Bar. Oh, if you don't like my company, there's 
plenty that do — I'll go look after the pigs. 

[Exit Barney. 

Roch. Ladies, I really beg ten thousand pardons—, 
the fact is — we are really short of female attendants at 
present ; I don't know how it is, but we never can keep 
a maid in this house. 

Count. That I can very easily believe. 

Roch. So that I've really been obliged to be cham- 
bermaid myself to most of the ladies that have been 
here — perhaps you'll allow me now, or shall 1 fetch our 
bar maid Bell ? 

Count, Oh, the bar maid Bell, by all means ; couldn't 
think of troubling you. 

Roch. Don't mention that— why Bell I say ! 

[Exit Rochester. 

Count. Well, Lady Gay, our information was cor- 
rect you perceive ; but even if we had not been pre- 
viously informed, the gallantry and freedom of this 
love-making landlord, and his no less amorous waiter, 
would immediately have convinced us they were not 
what they assumed. 



8 ROCHESTER; OR 

Lady Gay. Very true, Countess; and by the same 
rule would to any one in the slightest degree acquaint- 
ed with their characters, have immediately discovered 
their names and rank. For a frolic like this could have 
entered into no one's head less witty and graceless than 
Rochester and Buckingham. 

Count- Were not our characters pretty well establish- 
ed for discretion, the world, my love, might talk rather 
freely of this expedition of ours ; but really, my dear 
Lady Gay. no woman of any spirit could possibly sub- 
mit t© such a marked pique as 1 have experienced from 
Rochester. Refuse me, without even condescending 
to see me, merely because it was King Charles' wish an 
union should be formed between us, Retreat without 
even facing his opponent. But having so fortunately 
track'd them to their hiding place, we mustn't retreat at 
the first advance ; no, we must brave the foe, and con- 
quer first, even if we yield afterwards. 

Lady Gay E'en as youlike — I am prepared to run 
all hazards with you. 

Count, We must act with honour though— we 
mustn't betray them though we have discovered them* 
No, no, but come, to business : in the first place what 
is their purpose here ? They have some mischievous 
designs on foot, I'll lay my life. 

Lady Gay. Well, we must match their pranks. 

Count. And thwart them too— but how ? Ha ! ha ! 
a thought has just struck me — since they've become 
a landlord and a waiter, to serve their turns ; why can't 
we to serve ours, become a cook and chambermaid— 
they are in want of female servants, and will no doubt 
engage us — here he comes, leave me, to introduce and 
manage it. 

Lady Gay. Admirable ! 

Enter Rochester. 

Rock. Surely never was there a more provoking 
circumstance— I can't find Bell any where.— -Ladies, 
I know not how to ask your patience — she cannot sure 
be long. At all events, I can, you know, officiate. 

Count, 'lis of a truth provoking, but there's an easy 
remedy. We know a pair of damsels that would suit 
you. 

Roch. You think so ? 



CHARLES Unci's MERRY DAYS. 9 

Count. I am sure of it ! 

Rock. Are they young ? | 

Count. They are. 

Roch. Pretty? 

Count. We think so. 

Roch. Innocent? Because 1 stick a great deal upon 
character, 

Count. That we'll be bound you do; make your 
mind easy ; these are virtue's self! 

Roch. I'm very glad to hear that — young, pretty, 
and innocent, when can I see them? 

Count. To-morrow morning. 

Roch. Not to-night. 

Count. Impossible. 

Roch. I'm sorry for that : your description has in- 
terested me greatly for them. What a fortunate thing 
it is they should fall into such hands as mine ; they 
will find here a quiet house, a sober family, and the 
most fatherly treatment. 

Count. No doubt* 

Roch. Oh, here comes Bell. 

Enter Bell. 

Why Bell, child, where the deuce have you been ; 
I've been looking all over the house after you. I hope 
you haven't been chattering with any of the young 
fellows about the village. You know I've a great ob- 
jection to any thing of that kind. 

Bell. La, sir, how whimmysome you are, to take 
such a fancy as that in your head. You know I'm 
never hankersome after any of the young fellows, not I, 
I've something else to do. 

Roch. You must see these ladies to the best cham- 
ber. There, go and get a light, child. 

[Exit Bell. 

Count. We in the mean time, will give a few in- 
structions to our servant, and then will attend the 
young woman. Easy ! Easy ! this way, my dear. 
[Exeunt Countess and Lady Gay. 

Roch. Who can these women be ; I seem to have 
some distant recollection of them ; yet for the life of 
me I can't tell where— no matter, it is high time I 



10 ROCHESTER; OR 

should begin to think of visiting ray charming heiress ; 
her very image fills my soul with rapture. Eh, Bell 
returns. 

Enter Bell. 

Bell, you little rogue, come here — you look most pro- 
vokingly handsome you jade, you do — I must have a 
kiss ! 

Bell. La, sir, I wish you'd be quiet — I never knew 
such a touzzlesome gentleman in my life ! 

Roch, Nay, you rogue, I must touch those ruby 
lips ! 

Bell. La, sir ; I wish you'd touch and go, and not 
be so rumplesome. 

Roeh. I must have one kiss. 

Bell. Ill call out. 

Roch. No you shan't, for Pll stop you mouth (kisses 
her ; while they are struggling.) 

Enter the Countess and Lady Gay, attended by Easy. 

Count. Eh ! bless me, sir ! 

(Rochester retires in confusion.) 

Is this the fatherly treatment you werespeakingof! Bell, 
child, come hither, your master seems to make rather 
free in his nightly frolics, therefore, if you would avoid 
danger, you must avoid him. 

Bell He is apt to be rather rompysome, pulling and 
bawling one about, aad it is not always agreeable you 
know, ma'am. 

Count. Always to him, it should seem. 

Bell. One don't mind it now and then you know, 
when he is not too furysome. 

Count. Upon my word, a very accommodating bar 
maid, but come my dear Lady Gay, let us about our 
plan instantly. Easy, you'll follow us. 

[Exeunt Countess and Lady Gay. 

Easy. 1 shall, my lady. Your master seems to make 
very r ree with you — it quite shock'd my ladies — you 
sho> Id be very careful of those charms of yours. 

Bell. Oh, I'll take care, sir; though he is rompy- 
some some times — he shall have no Bell without 
a ring. 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 11 



SONG.— (Bell). 

When first love came to dwell on earth. 

A wicked rogue was he : 
'Till Heaven gave sweet marriage birth, 

That clipp'd his wings might be : 
With marriage join'd, love proved they tell, 

A kind and constant thing. 
Then if you'd chime in, sir, with Bell ; 

At church give her a ring ! 

When first love single rov'd the earth, 

He frighten'd beauty's cloves, 
But join'd with marriage — soon had birth, 

A train of little loves. 
Love wild and free, is false as well, 

'Tis marriage truth must briug, 
Then if you'd chime in sir, with Bell, 

At church give her a rins ! 

[Exit Bell. 

Easy. So, I'm to keep my ladies' secrets, and learn 
the secrets of all the family here. What a fortunate 
thing it is for them, they've such a person as me to 
confide in. — Oh, I'm a valuable servant — I'm worth my 
weight in gold — so careful — so intelligent !— so atten- 
tive to their slightest wishes. 

Count, (without) Easy ! 

Easy. 1'ra coming ! Never suffer them to call twice. 

Count, (without) Why, Easy, I say ! 

Easy. I'm coming! bless me what a hurry they're in; 
I'm sure they ought to give me double wages; it's as 
little as they can do. 

Count, (without) Why, Easy, I say ! 

Easy. Well, I'm coming! good servants are scarce 
articles now a-daysj-(6c// rings.) — curse that bell —they 
ought to be prized when they're found, I'm sure. — (bell 
rings.) — Why, I do believe the devil's in that bell.— (bell 
rings.) — I'm coming 1 tell you. — (bell rings).— Who 
would be a servant. [Exit Easy. 

Enter Balaam. 

Bal. Dear me, what a life I do lead ; I'm always 
committing some fresh sins ; there now, haVe I gone 
and let the Duke get hold of that list I had made out 

I 



12 ROCHESTER; OR 

for Rochester; and now he's as mad after the poor 
young heiress as his companion ; he means to take ad- 
vantage of the Miser's hall being overrun with rats; 
ahj there'll be a precious to do between them both, for 
they neither of them know what the other is at. Ob ? 
Lord ! Oh, Lord ! 



SCENE II. 

Rural Landscape hy Moonlight* 

Enter Rochester. 

Roch. (singing.) — Hope inspires me, 
Passion fires me, 
See the wished for Port's in view. 

Yes ; but how the plague am 1 to get into port? egad, 
that's a puzzle ! Eh, what ignis falum— what Will o'lhe 
Wisp and Jack-a Lan thorn, have we here? 

Enter Amen Squeak. 

A strange figure i'faith, and marching along in the 
oddest manner. Stop, Friend! let me ask you a short 
question before you go— Who the devil an vou ? 

Squeak Eh ! what don't you know : why, 1 thought 
every fool knew me, ha J ha! urn! 

Roch As birds of a feather flock together, every fool 
may; but 1 don't happen to belong to that class. 

Squeak, Oh, then, perhaps you are one of the rogues 
that are about here ! ha! har urn! 

Roch. Rogues, fellow ! 

Squeak. Aye, the thieves that I am going to warn 
Master Starvemouse of— if you are, it will be quite 
apropos, 1 can take you up -^ha ! ha ! 

Roch. Egad, I think you have taken me up quite 
enough as it isj and I'll try if I can't return the com- 
pliment — thieves— Old Starvemouse— why, it will be 
the very thing, this is apropos indeed. 

Squeal* I'm Amen Squeak, the parish factotum and 
head locum tenens of Newport; I'm parish clerk and 
constable, bellman and beadle; sexton and psalm-singer - s 



- ' 



CHABlES llnd's MERRY DAYS. 1* 

crier and cobler ; I give out anthems, and take up 
vagrants ; i ring the church bells, and box up the par- 
son : make psalms, and mend shoes ; dig graves, and 
cry for all the parish ; ha ! ha ! hum ! 

Roch. Indeed! a very meritorious personage upon 
my word ; and pray what may you get now by these 
multifarious employments ? 

Squeak. Oh, I've a famous good place of it ; I get 
ten pounds a year, ha ! ha! 

JRoch Very good wages indeed ; and so, your name 
'it Amen Squeak, eh! 

Squeak. Yes; for want of a better, ha ! ha ! 

Roch. And you squeak, Amen, of a Sunday? Well, 
now, Mr. Amen Squeak, lay down your staff of office, 
your pisce is gone. 

Squeak My place gone ! It can't be ; where can they 
find a man to fill my place ; he must be a clever fellow 
that can do that. 

Roch. He is! 

Squeak. But where is he ? 

Roch. Here! I am he ! Hark'e, Squeak, you are too 
fond of old wine and good ale. ' 

Squeak. Well, I know 1 am ; 1 wish I had some now. 

Roch. A sot, for shame ! This is a heinous crime ; 
government have been considering the affair, and have 
come to this decisive determination of justice : you're 
to retire on a pension of double your salary, as a punish, 
ment ; yes, sir, you're condemned to have twenty 
pounds a year for doing nothing- : the sentence was past 
by Rochester, and I've brought you your hrst quarter's 
salary in advance ; there, sir ; there it is. 

Squeak. What ! twenty pounds a year, and do nothing. 
1 wish I may be punished so every day in my life ; 
there's the hat and wig ; and there's the coat and staff; 
and there ; there's the parish spectacles into the bar- 
gain; bnt how shall I let Mr. Starvemouse know there 
are thieves hereabout ? 

Roch. I'll do that 

Squeak. Will you? then that'i the very thing, be- 
cause I was sent by the Mayor; I was to stay at Mouldy 
Hall all night, and take care of Miss Silvia and the 
premises. 

Roch. And now you can go and stay at the tavern 
all night ; I'll stop at Mouldy Hall, and take care of 
Miss Silvia ; there, away with you, 



W ROCHESTER; OR 

Squeak Aye, aye, that I will ; I wish you joy of 
your place ; I'd rather have the pensb?s ! twenty pounds 
a year: Fni an ^dependent man; I'm a man of Tor- 
tune; I'm Amen Squeak, Esquire, eh! ha! ha! urn! 

{Exit Squeak. 

Koch Farewell thou precious sample of parish wis- 
dom-yet meihinks I feel elevated in my newly created 
dignity, and puffed up by my new-born honour; re- 
move that barrow out of the way there, woman ; get 
off that tomb stone, boys; turn that noisv child out 
there ; hum ! zounds ! hem ! make way for the beadle 
•f the parish ! {Exit Rochester strutting. 



SCENE III. 

Exterior of Mouldy Hall. 

Enter Dunstable, disguised as a beggar. 

Dun. So, here's another disguise to add to the num- 
ber I've assumed to cheat this old stiff-backed miser out 
of his lovely ward ; oh, love ! love ! how great is thy 
influence, when you make a poor stroller like me beat 
even Proteus himself in changes ; I must strain a point 
to see Silvia; a pointed strain may assist me; what 
shall I sing—my serenade in Lorenzo — No; mychaunt 
in the Beggar's Bush — No : I'll trust to fancy, and give 
her a strain of my own, which shall awaken her suspi- 
cions and lull those of all the rest of the family. 

SOLO.— (Dunstable). 

Love neglected once grew poor, 
And beggar stroll'd to beauty's door, 
Sighing — pray relieve nie, do : — 
I'm starving Ma'am — for want of you. — 
My lips for weeks, alas, unfed 
By kisses — love is almost dead ; 
Send me not unheard away, 
But relieve me, Ma'am, I pray. 



CHARJJES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 1* 

(Silvia from a grated window)* 
Beauty from her tower on high, 
Heard the beggar's suppliant sigh ; 
Pitied his distress and want, 
And kindly vow'd she'd succour grant ; 
Gold, he wanted not, she knew, 
So to him a Note she threw; 
And bade him linger round the door, 
For soon she'd come and give him mort \ 

(Am bo.) 

Oh, ever thus, may beauty prove 
Bounteous to the beggar Love! 

Silvia— (from above). A moment, and I will be witk 
you ; my guardian and his man are busily engaged. 
Dun. Enchanting girl ! she comes. 

Enter Silvia. 

Bun. My life ! my love ! 
Silvia. My dearest Romeo ! 

Enter Rebecca. 

Reh. Hoity-toity; here's doings; that plaguy actor 
again, 1 dare say-; why, Miss Golden, young ladies 
don't usually relieve beggars in that manner. 

Silvia. Oh, yes, they do aunt; a beggar like this; 
why, 1 was only bestowing my alms upon him. 

Reb. Bestowing your arms upon him indeed ; so it 
should seem, and with a witness to it too— why you 
were embracing him, Miss. 

Dun. That infernal old woman. 

Reb. I wish I could catch any young fellow serving 
me in that manner. 



Dun. I dare say you do. 
Reb. But 1 don't ki 



: know how it is, somehow they 
never attempt any thing of the kind with me. 

Dun. I should wonder if they did. 

Reb. But come Miss — back to your room if you 
please — oh, 1 wish 1 could find any young fellow 
hankering after me so, I'd fit him, 1 warrant— -com* 
Miss, enter ; and you, Sir, exit. 

Dun. " Cease rude Boreas blustering railer," 

Reb, Don't bore me with your nonsense. 



16 ROCHESTER ; OB^ 

Sih. You have my note, 'twill guide you how to 
act — we must yield to necessity, Farewell. 

Sih. " And will he not come again ? 
And will he not come again ?" 

Reb. Oh yes ; I dare say he'il come again fast 
enough ; but I'll take care it shall be no ute. Gome, 
Miss. — 

Sih. Good bye !— Good bye ! — 

f Exeunt Silvia and Rebecca through door. 

Dun. What says she, — (reads) " If you cannot get 
into the house before, you will at twelve to-night find 
a rope ladder hanging from the right hand turret 
grating, it leads to an apartment opening to my 
chamber. — In this apartment is an iron chest, in which 
you can conceal yourself, should there be danger of a 
discovery — I shall be up, and watching for you." 

" Silvia." 

Enchanting girl ! Fortune, I defy you. ■ 

[Exit Dunstable. 

Enter Rochester. 

Roch. It will do— it will do I see. — I look the beadle 
to the life, for as I pass'd through the village, all the 
poor men pulled off their hats to roe, all the old 
women bobb'd a curtesy, and all the little boys and 
girls ran away — Hem ! — Halloo ! — Master Starve- 
mouse — Master Starvemouse. 

(Imitating Squeak and knocking at the Castle, 
with the End of his Staff,) 

Starve, 'from the Tower grating) Who beateth so 
loudly against the entrance of my tenement. — Verily 
my heart answereth, and beateth also. 

Thin, (looking over his shoulder) Who's there ? 

Roch, Thieves ! Thieves ! 

Starve. Thieves! — My spirit is alarmed— yea my 
heart quaileth, — Fetch the blunderbuss. 

Jer. I will. 

Starve. Stay Jeremiah!— He may not be worth 
shooting — Powder and shot cost money, a farthing 
goeth in the flashing of a pan. We are safe here ; 
therefore I will interrogate him from mine own throat. 



CHARLES Hod's MERRY DAYS. 17 

Rcch. Why don't you come down, why don't you 
know me, I'm Amen Squeak ! I'm sent by the Mayor! 
bless your stupid heads, ^l'm come to save you — I 
mean to sit up with you all night, to be your guard, 
and to take care of the young lady. 

Starve. Then is my spirit glad again ; and we will 
descend directly from this upper chamber here, and let 
thee in. 

{They disappear from the grating, 

Roch. Another moment, and 1 shall have passed the 
Rubicon. 

Starvemouse and Thin open Gates. 

Starve, 1 am not sorry this accident has happened — 
It has spoiled my appetite, I shall save a supper 
thereby — My portals open to receive thee, bend thy 
footsteps hither Squeak, be not so tardy, lest the evil 
ones surprise and overcome us. 

Roch. Don't be alarmed — you'll have nothing to 
fear from the thieves, when I am in the house. 

{Exeunt Omnes into house. 



SCENE IV. 
An Apartment in Mouldy Hall. 

Enter Starvemouse, Jeremiah Thin, and Rochester. 

Starve. This way, good Amen Squeak — this way — a 
private word with thee, O Jeremiah, remove those 
fragments of our supper quickly, or Squeak's inside, 
perchance, may yearn for them. — Put them in some 
safe place. 

Thin. I will (eats them). 

Roch. Where the deuce can Silvia be — Eh! why 
surely here she comes, an angel by this light. 

Enter Silvia^/rom an inner Room. 

Silvia. Mr. Starvemouse, do you think 1 will put up 
with this usage, Sir ? Surely you might be content 



18 ROCHESTER; OR, 

with confining me like a prisoner, without giving me 
the prisoner's fare too, bread and water 

Starve. Meat is not good for maids—the larder doth 
but lead to love — one appetite doth but create another. 
They do not think of sweethearts, who lack a supper; 
therefore to fast is good. 

Rock Here's a precious scoundrel for you — wants 
to starve the girl. 

Silvia. Was ever maiden so perplexed as I — deprived 
of my liberty and lover, and almost of my life — Heigho ! 
— when will my dear Romeo Dunstable change the 
scene for me — Eh! what stranger is this? methinks 
that he regards me very earnestly. — Why, I declare, 
if the man isn't making signs to me — as sure as I am 
born, it must be Dunstable in disguise; was ever any 
thing so clever. 

jRoch. How do you do Miss ? — Don't be alarmed, 
I'm only Amen Squeak — there's a plan laid to rob the 
house, so I'm come to take care of you. 

Silv. I understand — How well the rogue plays his 
part, who would ever take him for Dunstable ; but 
when were a lover's eyes deceived ? — I'll retire awhile, 
or, I may thwart his plans. — Mind Mr. Squeak, you 
are as good as your word.—- If you think it necessary 
to arouse me, you have only to cry Silvia, 1 shall 
hear you, and be ready.— So, good ni^ht, Mr. Beadle, 
mind you don't go to sleep.— Good night ! 

[Exit Silvia. 

Rock. Never fear, Miss — I shall be awake — but now 
to dismiss these eel-skins.-— 

Starve. She hath gone and forgot her supper — well, 
the loss is her's, not mine — Come, Jeremiah Thin, 
hast thou locked all up ! 

Thin. I have. 

Starve. Then will we to bed, we shall save thereby. 
Thou wilt keep watch all night, thou sayest Squeak ? 
We shall be close at hand to aid thee, should the 
spoilers come. — [Noise without.'] Hey ! what noise is 
that ? The thieves, no doubt"; accost them, Jeremiah, 
from the casement — Exalt thy voice. 

Thin. I will. 

Roch. Who the devil can this be ? Not the thieves 
in reality surely. 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 19 

Thin, (from grating). Who's there. 

Buckingham (without.) 

Buck. Bewley, the rat-catcher. 

Starve. The rat-catcher, he cometh late — travelling 
no doubt, and cannot lose much time ; truly, we are 
greatly over run. 1 will employ him if his term9 be 
cheap. What do you charge, my friend ? (calling). 

Buck. A shilling a hundred, and find my own arsenic, 
your honor! 

Starve. Find his own arsenic — then will I treat the 
rats therewith. Admit him, Jeremiah. 

Thin. I will. 

Starve. Tell him on what account he may sit up 
with Squeak; and further say, he shall to-morrow 
morning give the rats their breakfast. 

Thin. I will. [Exit Thin. 

Starve. Go round to the door, friend. This is good. 
I have another guard, and shall pay nothing, (aside). 

Enter Jeremiah Thin and Buckingham. 

Is this the killer of rats ? 

Thin. It is. 

Roch. I wish he'd been at Jericho before he came. 

Starve. Hast thou expounded to him of my wishes. ? 

Thin. I have. 

Starve. We'll not expend more words then ; you will 
sit up all night with Squeak, here; and if you need 
refreshment, there is a great store of water in the 
pitcher. Peace be with you; bring the candle, Je- 
remiah. You will not need a light, there is the moon, 
aad we are near at hand, should danger come. Come 
Jeremiah,. 

Thin. I will. 

[ Exeunt Thin and Starvemouse. 

Roch. I wish this rat catcher was coop'd up in one 
of his own traps, and thrown into the Thames 
' Buck. Curse this beadle ; I wish he was safely seated 
in the parish stocks ; 'tis lucky my getting into the 
house so easily tho\ Thin says that Silvia's chamber 
leads from this. 



20 ROCHESTER; OR 

Rock. I must throw this fellow off his guard; he is 
but a poor bumpkin by his not speaking ; 'twill be an 
easy matter. 

Buck. I dare say this beadle is some parish pump — 
It won't require much wit to handle him. 

Mock. I'll pretend to be asleep. 

Buck. He'll not dream of any mischief if he thinks 
I'm nodding— yaw— aw. 

Eoch. He's getting sleepy himself; I'll encourage 
him — yaw- — aw. 

Buck. Yawning's catching. He'll not be afraid of 
going to sleep if he thinks I'm gone ; so I'll treat him 
with a nasal overture (snores). 

Koch. What heavenly music ! Re's going. Oh, 
it came o'er my ear like the sweet south. I'll make a 
duet of it (snorts). 

Buck, He's fast as a church, but I'll give him another 
note or two {snores). 

Roch. He's in a sound sleep, all's safe, so I'll just 
give him an accompaniment obligato, and wind up 
the business (snores). 

Buck. I'll snore no more, now for action. I must 
mind I don't awaken him. Where the devil is the 
door, (feeding about). 

Roch. He's quite gone, so I'll proceed at once to 
business. Hist! hist! Silvia! 

Buck. Hist ! Silvia ! (rising). 
Rock. Eh ! zounds ! what's that, an echo ? ah, there's 
always echoes in these old places. I'll call no more, 
but enter the room at once. 

Buck. How one's voice sounds at night; I must be 
quiet. Where the devil is the door ? 

(Music. —Buckingham and Rochester grope 
about till they encounter each other. 

Roch, Eh! zounds, who's there? (smiwgBuckingham). 

Buck. What's this? 

Roch. Who's there ? speak or you die ! 

Buck. That infernal beadle as I live. Why 'tis I, 
the rat catcher. 

Roch. Rat catcher! Why what were you groping 
about here for ; I took you for a thief! 

Buck. I — I — thought I heard some rats, and so — 

Roch. And so what ? 

Buck. And so I got up to catch them. 



\ 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 21 

Roch. Hem ! I've beard of cats catching rats in the 
dark, but not of men. I begin to smell a rat myself. 
This must be that rascal of a player, his pretending to 
be asleep proves it — let me to old Starvemouse. 

\_Exit Rochester. 

Buck. Hey ! the old beadle gone ! Balaam ! 
Balaam ! 

Balaam {without). 

Bal. I'm only saying your prayers, your grace. 

Buck. Be ready, rascal; Silvia! Silvia! Ske'U 
think I'm the player, and be fifty miles off with me, 
before she finds it out — hist ! hist ! Silvia ! 

Enter Silvia from door. 

Sil Dunstable ! here's the rope ladder, fix it to the 
window ; I'll just go in and get my bundle, and be off 
with you directly. 

[Exit Silvia through door. 

Buck. Was ever any thing so fortunate; there's the 
ladder all safe. Balaam ! Balaam ! come up scoundrel, 
and assist. 

Bat. (without) Yes, your grace. 

Enter Balaam thro* window. 

Bal. Oh, dear, dear, howl tremble, we shall cer- 
tainly be found out; a trap is laid for us no doubt. 

Buck. Well, I'm the most lucky scoundrel This 
will certainly be the most striking of all my amours. 

Enter Rochester, Starvemouse, and Thin, with cudgels. 

Roch* This way, this way, make no noise ; there the 
villain stands ; wait 'till I give the signal, then lay on 
soundly. 

Enter Silvia from room, 

Sil. Dunstable, are you all ready ? 
Buck. Yes ; all ready. 
Bal. Yes ; we're all ready. 



22 ROCHESTER; OR 

Roth. So are we (aside). 

Buck. I shall carry off the girl; she'll carry off her 
money— — 

Rock. And you'll carry off a good sound beating. 
(a ■ e). 

Sit. Now for it. 

Buck. Aye, now for it. 

Roch. Yes; now for it — lay on my boys; out of the 
window rascal ; we'll play you. 

Bal. Oh, murder, murder, 'tis all a judgment ! 

[Exit Buckingham and Balaam thro' window. 

Starve. My arm is tired with smiting. 

Thin. And mine. 

Roch. Ha ! ha ! ha ! the mousing scoundrel, to 
come laying his bails and traps here. 

Starve. Verily he hath had his reward — I did strike 
with might and main. 

Thin. And I. 

Silvia occasionally peeps from Door. 

Starve. But where is Silvia my ward ? Truly I 
tremble for the safety of the maid. 

Roch. She's certainly not out of danger here master 
Starvemouse, with such a parcel of young fellows 
about. I'll take her under my care, and carry her to 
the Mayor ! 

Starve. Thy kindness is abundant Amen Squeak — 
I am content to let it be so— we will propose it to the 
maiden — come this way. 

Roch. Bravo ! why I shall carry her off before their 
Tery faces — this is, indeed, consummate. 

[Exeunt Rochester, Starvemouse, and Thin, into 
Silvia's Chamber through door. 

Enter Dunstable from window. 

Dunst. Silvia has kept her word, and so have I-- 
there is the ladder, and here the lover — but where is 
the lady ? Silvia ! hist ! Silvia ! 

(Peeps through key hole.) 
Why zounds ! there's three men in her room, what 
can they be doing there ? Hey, here they come, and 
1 must go— but where ? Ah ! The Iron Chert. " Ob, 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 23 

let me in it— let me in it." I've often played Jack 
Falstaff, and now I'll play Jack in the Box. 

CD unstable gets into the Iron Chest, Rochester, 
Starvemouse, Silvia, and Thin, enter from 
Chamber.) 

Starve. Is thy mind made up — art thou content to 
resign thyself to Squeak ? 

Silvia. Heigho ! yes, I'm content to go with him, 
surely I cannot be wrong with such a protector — you'll 
take care of me Sir ? 

Rbch. To be sure I will. 

Starve. Your treasure mean time is safe in my Iron 
Chest. 

(Voices, Mayor and Constables without.) 

Starve. Hey! what noise of alarm is this ? Jour- 
ney Jeremiah, and discover. 

Thin. I will. [Exit Thin. 

Roch. Who the devil can this be ? Surely no more 
interruptions — to be shipwrecked in sight of port 
would be indeed provoking. 

Count, (without) This way your worship — this way — 
here is the impostor ! 

Roch. Impostor ! why zounds, they mean me ! 

Silvia. Oh, my dear protector, I hope you won't be 
found out. 

Dunst. Heaven forbid ! (aside from chest). 

Roch. I hope not (aside). 

Starve. My mind misgives me. 

Enter Muddle, (the Mayor) Amen Squeak, the Coun- 
tess and Lady Gay, their faces concealed, Con' 
stables, &c. 

Starve. Eh, what do I see— two Squeaks ! 

Roch, I must brazen it out — my worthy predecessor 
seems tolerably drunk already — and now I must make 
him a man beside himself. 

Mud. Now then where is this fragrant malefactor 
this oderous offender ? 

Count. There he is your worship — I hope you'll 
punish him well. 



24 ROCHESTER; OR 

Mud. Never fear I'll make an exemplary spectacle 
of him — now Paragon of Culprits where are you 
going* to ? 

Roeh. I'm going to the Mayor ! 

Mud. lam the Mayor, in propria que maribus. 
Who are you ! What's your name ? You must be 
exalted and taken notice of. 

Roch. Amen ! 

Mud. Amen, you say ! Oh ! oh ! you hear what he 
specifies? Why this is presumptious evidence — let it 
be put down that it may appear in his indemnification. 

Roch. Amen ! 

Mud. You consist then in being the cryer ? 

Roch. i Oh, yes. 

Mud. Why, then, who are you— you disguised Black 
Beadle. 

Squeak. Me ! I'm a gentleman — I've got twenty 
pounds a year—I don't care for any body. 

Roch. There, you hear he says he's a gentleman ! 

Starve. A gentleman ! verily he is an impostor ! 

Roch, And there — this gentleman says he is an im- 
postor—let us kick him out. 

Mud This is a very specious piece of business ; and 
above my implication — Dear me — dear me — what a 
thing it is, that one never can disgust one's meals in 
peace — but one must be torn piecemeal with defama- 
tions — convocations — and other informalities— If I'd 
any of the fees and requisites of office for my pains — 
it would be a different thing — but every body knows 
I'm an ignoramous, and commit justice gratis— I must 
disperse the complaint. 

Count. Why your worship, it's as clear as the sun at 
at noon day — this is the rogue — and this the fool — only 
the one is disguised in liquor, and the other in the 
parish livery. 

Mud. Why it is so indeed — I apprehend the whole 
business at once ; Oh, thou vile Squeak to be indulg- 
ing in thy potentials in this manner, quaffing the rubric 
grape of buckhorse— but, I'll invigorate you for your 
maledictions — I'll subpoena you from your vocations 
for a month, and milk you of all your pay. 

Squeak, Milk ! I can pay for ale, old Gaffer ! I'm 
Amen Squeak, Esquire ; I've got twenty pounds a year, 
and care for nobody — have any thing to drink ? 

Mud. How dare you consult the Parish in this way ? 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 25 

Squeak. Damn the Parish ! I'm a gentleman ! 

Mud. Damn the Parish! Why that's petty treason ! 
but you're mops and brooms fellow — I must examine 
you when you are non compos mentis— as for you, 
blackslider- -you've been assaulting a battery by getting 
into this house ; it comes under the statue of King 
John : therefore by virtue of the officiousness of my 
situation, I shall make out your committeebus. 

Court. That's right, your worship, put him in the 
stocks ; let him be well whipp'd— a libertine ! 

Roch. Who the plague are these mischievous wo- 
men ? Nay, but hear me, your worship. 

Squeak. Hear me ! hear me ! 

Mud. I'm incorrigible — I'm a mayor, and stable in 
my exterminations. Unhand him there, and drag 
him away. 

\ SCENA. 

Rochester, Countess, Lady Gay, Silvia, Dunstable, 
Starvemouse, Thin, Balaam, Muddle, and Constables. 

Muddle. 

Uold defender away, you shall squeak in the cage, 
You've broken the statues, your purse must mend them ; 

Rochester. 

Unhand me, beware how my soul you enrage; 
When love is the crime, where's the man can condemn. 

Countess and Lady Gay. 
Do not spare, Mr. Mayor, make the rogue an example ; 

Muddle. 
Flagrant fair, never fear, he shall bleed and pay ample. 

Starvemouse. 

Let him go to the old one, my heart shall know rest, 
For my treasure, all safe, is in this iron chest ! 

Dunstable (to Silvia, peeping out of the chest). 
Let him go to the old one, your heart may know rest, 
For your treasure, all safe, is in this iron chest! 

Enter Thin with Balaam. 
Thin. 
Lo! here is a sinner I caught in the garden! 

Balaam. 
Oh no, 'twas this trap caught me,— begging your pardei. 

E 






26 ROCHESTER ; OR 

Muddle. 

An accomplish! but we will accomplish him soon > 
tJnclose dog— 

Balaam. 
■ " ■■— ■ ' I wish I was safe in the moon. 

Muddle. 
Imprehend him ; digress all your sins, rogue, or bleed ; 

Balaam. 
My master; oh sir, in my cause pr'ythee plead. 

Omnes. 
Your master? 

Balaam. 
Yes, sure, from the Horns; — don't you know? 

Omnes. 
The landlord ! zounds ! who'd have thought so ! 

Rochester. 

Discovered ! confusion ! nay then I must fly; 
Unhand me — away— he who follows shall die. [Roch. rushes off. 

Omnes. 

Escaping! pursue him! he's yet in our view; 
Pursue him ! pursue him ■ pursue him ! pursue ? 



EJfD OF ACT FIRST. 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 27 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. 

i i 

Enter Rochester hastily. 

Rock. A pretty confusion I occasioned last night. — 
A narrow escape by Jupiter ; but I have escaped, let 
me get another such a chance, and I'll warrant me, 
I won't be balk'd again. — How provoking, Balaam 
being caught by the leg in that trap ; I should have got 
off undiscovered, if it had not been for that.— I sup- 
pose I shall have the whole parish here after me this 
morning. — Well, I think there's a loop-hole for me to 
escape through, if— Buckingham — but he comes. 

Enter Buckingham. 

Buck. Confound that rascal of a Beadle, if he had 
been flogging the greatest vagabond in the county, he 
could n't have laid it on more soundly, how my poor 
bones do ache — what would Rochester say if he knew 
it ? why he'd jeer me for a twelvemonth — h'd say — 

Roch. Good morrow to your grace ! 

Buck. Rochester here ! Good morning to your 
lordship. 

Roch. I come, sir, pursuant to the letter of our 
agreement, to resign to you, that superiority I have 
for the last month enjoyed, during which period, I 
hope you will allow 1 have used my honorary power 
with moderation, and been an indulgent master! 

Buck. Why, pretty well, except when the women 
were in the way ; and then, you shewed your autho- 
rity confoundedly ; but I forgive it. 



28 ROCHESTER} OR, 

Roch. — Your term of servitude expired, T now 
become the waiter for a month, except that you were 
more partial to attending on the maid, than on the 
master, you are entitled to a tolerably fair character; 
but I forget who I am taking* to— what are your com- 
mands, sir? You will find me a most attentive servant 
—by the bye, I'll thank you for your napkin — bill of 
are, and the other insignia of your office ? 

Buck Psha ! a truce to disguise now that no one 
observes us, let us throw off the mask for a while. 

Roch. With ail my heart. 

Mud. (without) Here, landlord ! landlord ! where 
is the landlord ? Here's a want of detention ! — why 
an't he waiting on our worships ? 

Roch. Zounds ! the mayor's voice ! I thought they'd 
come for me. 

Mud. Landlord! 
.RocA.There, you're called ! 

Buck. No, it's you— they want you. 

Roch. Pshaw ! you're the landlord now ! you fill my 
place. 

Buck. True: I'd forgot — coming your honour! — 
Wilmot, why don't you look after the guests, sirrah ! 
ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! — there, sir, do you think I shall be 
able to play the landlbrd as well as you have done? — 
do you think I shall be able to take your place to 
your satisfaction. 

Roch. Yes ,♦ in this instance, I think you may. 

Mud. (without) Landlord ! 

Roch. But they wait for you. 

Buck. Coming gentlemen — they'll not want you, 
when they have me — ha ! ha ! ha ! 

[Exit Buckingham. 

Roch. No, I hope not— ha ! ha ! ha! It's laughable 
enough i'faith — ha ! ha ! ha ! 



Enter Countess. 

Coun. Good morning host ! you are gay methinks. 

Roch. Gay !— who could be otherwise when you 
were approaching.— My soul prescient of your coming 
felt inspired with transport, the influence of the pole 
is felt, though 'tis unseen, the faithful needle turns it's 
point to it, and quivers with delight. 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 20 

Court. You observe rightly.— -The needle turns its 
point indeed, to that it loves ; and like you, would 
pierce the attracting heart it wishes to repose upon. — 
But methinks, host, for one of your gallantry, your 
similies are very hackney'd — do you take us for house- 
wives, that you talk of needles to us ? 

Koch. The similie, I own, is far fetch'd, aye, and 
dearly bought too, if it incurs me your displeasure. 

Coun. Nay, though we are not greatly attracted by 
your metaphor, we are not absolutely repelled by it, 
although we are going to leave you ! 

Roch. Leave me ! you cannot mean it ! 

Coun. We shall do it, and that within an hour too. 
Now, I know what you are going to say. 

Roch. No you don't. 

Coun. To swear that my absence will plunge you 
into the lowest depths of despair. 

Roch. So it will madam. 

Coun. That you are desperately in love with me. 

Roch. So I am madam. 

Coun. And that nothing but death or the lady can 
cure you; but spare your breath, and my patience, 
and let us talk a little common sense if possible. 

Roch. You, madam, can talk nothing but excellent 
sense. 

Coun. We were speaking last night of servants. — 
We promised to send you a couple or innocent young 
creatures, who had never been in service before ; and 
if you recollect, you promised they should receive, the 
most fatherly treatment. — Will you perform your pro- 
mise, if we do ours? 

Roch Most religiously ; you cannot surely doubt for 
a moment, that — 

Count. Indeed but we do tho' — those eyes are 
extremely roguish eyes of yours — 1 really fear you 
greatly. 

Roch. You have no reason — were the damsels you 
talk of ever so fair and winning ; the affection yzu 
have inspired, would preserve me from their influence : 
— for, let the brightest sun of beauty beam before my 
eye, the reflection of* your charms, like some soft 
silvery cloud, would sail between, and preserve me 
from their power. 

Count. And you really wish me to believe you are 
enamoured of me ? 



30 ROCHESTER; OR, 

Roch. I would convince jou of it — by this— (offer- 
ing to salute her. J 

Count.- Stop, stop, not jet if you please— you are, 
the most presuming swain I ever encountered. 

Roche But will you not ?give me [a hope, that I 
may be blest with— 

Count. Oh, yes, yes; I'll allow you to live in hope, 
as I do not mean to die in despair myself. 

Roch. But at what happy period ? 

Count, I shall be returning soon, to enquire how 
you have behaved to these young Protegees of ours — 
suppose we find you have been flirting with these 
girls ; — what penance will you perform to expiate 
your faithfulness. 

Roch. Any that you can name ! 

Count. Would you become a slave for life. 

Roch. Your slave, with pleasure ! 

Count, Would you marry ? 

Roch. Yes: — you — for it would be paradise— and I 
fear I shall wrong the trust, if its only for the gratifi- 
cation of paying the forfeit. 

Count. No raptures, I beg of you— is it a bargain ? 

Roch. It is, by love and beauty — and thus I sign 
and seal — {saluting Countess) 

Count. Yes ; but now I think of it — there's been 
no consideration given, to make this contract valid. 

Roch. Oh madam, we will go through all the for- 
malities of the law, " In witness whereof we hereunto 
set our hands, anno Domni, &c." 

Count, (exclaiming) heavens! you need not squeeze 
my hand so violently. 

Roch. Merely a form of law madam, and you know 
the law is at times very pressing. 

Count. Well, I cannot argue the point with you, I 
must go — we cannot ourselves stay to deliver these 
damsels into your hands. Our servant, Easy, will 
conduct them hither — farewell — remember your pro- 
mise. 

Roch. Farewell, angel ! divinity ! [Exit Countess. 

Ten thousand farewells— (Muddle without) — bring 
him along ; eh, what the deuce is this— oh, that in- 
fernal mayor, and Buckingham in custody. [Exit. 



CHARLES Ilnds MERRY DAYS. 31 



Enter Muddle and Constables with Buckingham. 

Buck. I tell you there's some mistake here rascals- 
it cannot be. 

Mud. Tilly vally — here's no mistake— its as plain 
as my nose, and without any further elocution and 
dispatch, I comprehend you !— 

Buck. Comprehend me ! its more than I can do you. 

Mud. Answer me, without dilapation— an'tyou the 
landlord of the horns ? 

Buck. I am. 

Mud. You're the master ? 

Buck. Yes. 

Mud. Then you're the man — he acquits himself to 
the conviction of the most undeformed iiliterati — its 
non se ipse ! 

Buck. I'm the master, and I'm the man ! what the 
devil does the fellow mean ? he's quite an ass. — 

Mud. No, no ; I'm not unintelligible of my nature, 
you naughty mollyfactor — I'm a mare, and not an ass 
— you musn't go to expound, and to refute the genius 
of the speeches here, — will you take your corporal oath, 
that you were not at Mouldy Hail last night ? 

Buck. Not I, i'faith ! 

Mud. Then its a clear alibi — he must take the 
benefit of the clergy, and suffer without the power of 
reprieve or consanguinity ! — hark ye, you most grace- 
ful Buccaneer — the corporation of Newport, of which 
I am the head, and different members, with the other 
uncivil authorities of the parish ; having in the sound- 
ness of their olfactories, and full possession of their 
nasal powers, slept all night over your enormities, 
have come to this decisive extermination of justice — 
they have found you guilty of 'pretty lass on knee 9 in 
trying to run away with the young woman, for the 
law knows no extinction of personages — this malefac- 
tion they doom you to expatiate, by being consolidated 
in the stocks, which will edify you, and the surround- 
ing population. 

Buck. Consolidated in the stocks ! I'm very much 
obliged to you ; but I'm for selling out— -I must buy 
over this fellow— here great Justice Midas — stop 
your mouth with this money bag. 



32 ROCHESTER; OR 

Mud. Bribery ! and before all the congregation too. 
That a principal, as the heathen classes say, never 
can be parceptibus too; but he must be made a sacrifice 
of; this money must fall a victim to his profusion. I 
must keep it as a testimony— (pocket* ft)— nothing 
cures persons predicted to run away, better than put- 
ing their legs isi the stocks, ha ! ha ! pardon my gra- 
vity—but we must be flatigious sometimes. 

Enter Rochester. 

Buck. Mighty pretty, upon my soul. 

Mud. As for your presumption of the parish indigni- 
ties, in assuming the reverence of the beadle, without 
being properly ordained, we will allow you to expound 
the damage with forty shillings, which will be moun- 
tebank to the same number of stripes; your accom- 
plished partner in propinquity has been waiting in the 
stocks for you this last half hour, and display a most de- 
sirable resignation to the injustice of his sentence, an 
unadulterated penitence for his present sufferings; to 
bear him away. 

Buck. Confusion ! I tell you I am not the man, my 
waiter here, will prove I'm not the man. Wilmot, 
answer for me, rascal ! 

Mock. I answer for you ! La, sir, how can you ask 
such a thing ; any request that does'nt go against my 
conscience, I am happy to comply with ; but I cannot 
sacrifice my truth and morals. You know you are 
rather gay. 

Buck u I rather gay ? rascal. 

Roch. Yes, sir ; you know you do go a little beyond 
the mark sometimes ; I always hide your faults as much 
as 1 can ; but when justice and my conscience are con- 
cerned. 

Buck. Curse your morality ! the hypocritical villain. 

Roch. If I lose ray place, I cannot help it ; you'd 
better be resigned, sir, and submit without murmuring. 
Repentance, sir. 

Mud. A very valuable piece of impiety this servant, 
such mterestedness and consideration cannot be too 
much discouraged ; but come, bring the sufferer along ; 
however merciless and remorseful I am, I cannot par- 
don him. 



CHARLES llnd's MERRY DAYS. 33 

Buck, They may well say justice is blind— Hear 
me, fellow. $ 

Mud. Justice must be deaf to your imprecations, any 
thing you have to say that will extend your fault, 
comes too late ; I can attend to nothing in mitigation ; 
bear him away. 

Roch, Yes, yes, take him away; he's hardened. 

Mud Yes, we'll harden him. Away with him ; gag 
bim, bind him, harden him. 

\_Exeunt Muddle and Constables, forcing off Buck- 
ingham. 

Roch. Ha, ha, ha ! off with him, so much for Buck- 
ingham. Well, this is a famous joke upon my con- 
science. He has become master for something; in- 
stead of his man, 1 think he's my man, for he's doing 
my business for me — hey ! who are these two rustics ? 

Enter Easy, with Lady Gay and Countess, disguised as 
a Cook and Chambermaid, 

East/. So, I'm to give my ladies a character, and in- 
troduce them to a new place ; well, I hope they'll re- 
turn the compliment when I want them. This way, 
young women. 

Roch. Well, my pretty dears, what do you want ? 

Count. We're the new maids, if you please, sir. 

Roch New maids ! are you sure of that ? 

Count. Yes, if you please, sir. 

Roch. Please me, you little rose bud ; yes, it does 
please me ; from the likeness they should be related to 
their patronesses. Some poor cousins, I suppose. 
Aye, this is the way, patronage t patronage ! now-a- 
days bears sovereign sway ; pretty rogues, I vow. 

Easy. Yes, sir, these are the young women my ladies 
were speaking of, as they've a very particular regard 
for them ; they committed them to my care, they know 
I'm so trusty ; they always leave every thing of con- 
sequence to me. They requested me to beg you'd take 
great care of the poor little innocent dears ; don't be 
frightened my loves, the gentleman won't hurt you. 

Count. No, sir ; we're not frightened, if you please, 
the gentleman don't look very frightful. 

Easy. They are a little timorsorae or so sir, a littfe 
F 



34 ROCHESTER; OR 

countryfied and bashful, rather unformed and unpolish- 
ed, as it were; but all servants are not gifted alike. 

Count. We're very willing to learn, if you please, sir. 

Much* Well, I'm very glad to hear that, however. 
What ca?i you do my pretty maids ? Can you make beds ! 

Count. Yes, if you please, sir. 

Hoeh. And you, I' suppose, can cook plain dishes ? 

Lady Gay. Oh, yes, if you please, sir. lean cook 
hodge-podge, and make black puddings, and then I'm 
a desperate cute hand at curing hams, brewing cowslip 
wine, tossing up a syllabub, and— 

Rock. Hem! mighty pretty accomplishments! — 
you'll learn a great deal here, my love. 

Count, I dare say 1 shall. 

Rock You'll have an extremely pleasant place, very 
little to do — only just to listen to what your master 
says, and mind what I say. 

Count. La, sir, then an't you the master? 

Roch. No, my love ; I'm the waiter, I'm only your 
fellow servant. 

Count. Gemini — what a fine man for a waiter. 

Roch. But talking of my master — let me advise you 
my love to be upon your guard—be very careful with 
him, for he's a terrible rake ! 

Count. A rake ! la ! what is that ? 

Roch. A rake, my dear, is a thing that tumbles and 
tosses other things about. 

Count. Ah ! what they pull the hay about with in 
the fields — I can handle a rake very well. 

Roch. Yes, my love ! as for me, you'll find me quite 
a different sort of person— you'll find me all tender- 
ness — all kindness— all consideration — 1 shall be a 
delightful companion for you in the long winter nights, 
reading to you the most interesting books. 

Count. I dare say you will, sir. 

Roch. When our work's done we'll play at forfeits 
together, and on high days and holidays we'll ride out 
in a glass coach ! 

Count. A glass coach ! la, won't it break ? 

Roch. Charming simplicity ! you may go now, 
friend — the young: women are in very good hands 

Easy. Oh, yesT; I see they are— there's no want 
of me here I believe — I can take a hint— nobody can 
accuse me of want of penetration, what a valuable 
servant I am. [Exit Easy. 



1 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 35 

Roch. Now that fellow's gone my loves —let me bid 
you welcome to your new places. 

Count. Thank you, sir. 

Rock. You'll have a great many perquisites here, 
my love — there are some in which we shall both parti- 
cipate — but we shall not quarrel about them — no, by 
this kiss we shall not. (As he is kissing her.) 

Enter Buckingham. 

Buck. Heyday! one trick on the heels of another, 
making as free with their lips, as he did with my legs. 
Why the devil's in that fellow ! what, sir ; can't you 
let the new maids alone ? Young women, I must have 
some conversation with you in private — It is fit you 
should be let into the character of this servant of 
mine — begone, fellow ! 

Roch. Shall I see the young women to their rooms, 
sir ? 

Buck. No, sir ; I can do that myself— I thank you — 
why an't you gone ? an impudent pnppy r 

Roch. Well, Sir; I'm going ! 

Buck. Going, zounds, sir, you seem to leave the 
place as unwillingly as Adam left Paradise. 

Roches. True for I leave a couple of angels behind 
me — good bye* my dears ! [Exit Rochester. 

Bell, (without) Master, you are wanted. 

Buck. Away with you — pop something nice on the 
gridiron — and I'll be with you by the time it's ready. 

Easy, (without) Why landlord ! landlord ! 

[Exit Buckingham. 

Count* Well, my dear, you perceive our country sim- 
plicity—has taken in their town roguery— and proved 
them greater simpletons in reality than we were in 
seeming— but they are continuing their tricks, and we 
must hasten to the old miser's house, and forestal 
them— Easy, has discovered that the old Aunt there is 
extremely vain, weak, and superstitious- --and very 
much addicted to romances—and fortune tellers-— Now 
I have a couple of gypsies dresses in my trunk we'll 
slip them on— -hasten to Mouldy Hall— and (ike true 
women, make all the mischief we possible can— -come 
along my dear Lady Gay. 

{Exeunt Countess and, Lady Gay. 



36 ROCHESTER; OR 

Enter Rochester. 

Roth. Villiers, Villiers, he is gone, how provoking 1 
when 1 wished to communicate with him on an object 
of importance ? 

Enter Balaam. 

Eh i Balaam ! what do you want— and what are you 
doing with that bag. 

Bal This bag, my lord ! Oh, dear, there's the 
disguises here, that I got for the Duke ; If he finds 
out, I'm leaguing against him he'll murder me — this 
bag, my lord ? 

Roch. Aye, sir ; no equivocation. 

Bal. Here's only some clothes I'm going to take 
to the wash ! 

Roch. Indeed ! I know by his face he's deceiving 
me ! let me see them. 

Bal. Oh dear, I shall be found out at last — I must 
tell another lie to cover that — I mean my lord it's only 
some old things I got for you to go to the miser's 
house in, if you wish to try another chance. 

Roch Old things ! you mean disguises, I suppose. 

Bal. Yes, sir, a Jew's dress and beard and some 
clothes in a bag. 

Roch. Excellent ! this is more than I expected from 
you, sir; you improve — a Jew's dress will be admir- 
able ! Give me your bag, rogue — and that you may 
not loose by your merchandize, take my purse in ex- 
change, I'll away to the old miser's castellum directly. 

[Exit Rochester. 

Bal. How quickly money is earned when it's got 
over the devil's back — I must go and buy another 
bag and dress for the Duke — if he should happen to 
pay me, as well as my lord has done, I shan't have 
dealt in old clothes for nothing — but suppose they 
should happen to stumble on one another — I must 
take care the} don't stumble on me — Oh, dear, dear, 
how short sighted we sinners are — what will become 
of me; miserable Balaam ! [Exit Balaam, 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 8T 



*SONG, (Balaam.) 

I had rather starve, nothing but disasters, 
I'll no longer serve gallivanting masters ; 
Pilgarlick's in the thick of every lark and sligo, 
The'll go to old nick, and oh lord where shall I go. 

Too, rol loo, &c. 

Up comes Buckingham, thus my fears to chide O, 
" Pooh ! who cares a damn," Sir, I answer, I do ; 
When you court your Misses, with melodious chirrups, 
You get all the kisses, and I get all the larrups. 

Too, rol loo, &c. 

Always some new sin, how can mortals bear *em; 
Now they keep an Inn, now they keep a Haram, 
While such masters rule, I of course sing humble, 
Stuck between two stools, you know what must tumble. 

Too, rol loo, &e. 



SCENE II. 

Exterior of Mouldy Hall. 

Enter Rochester, disguised as a Jew. 

Roch. Ould clothes ; any ould clothes to sell ; (knocks 
at the door) ould clothes ; any ould clothes ; 

Enter Starvemouse and Thin, from door. 

Starve. Verily friend ; what is thy business ? 

Roch. Any ould tings to shell iny tear? 

Starve. Of a verity this must be honest Shadrach the 
Hebrew ; he is an honest dealer — we will traffic with 
him. 

Roch. Veil my life; what ish't — I vill either puy 
or shell — vant a good doublet or a pair of peautiful 
hose ? I will shell dem to you at de prime cosbt, 
any ting to turn de honesht penny, and make both 
ends meet. 

* The Author is indebted for this song to a literary Gentleman, 
whose kindness on such occasions is now become proverbial. 



SS _ ROCHESTER; OR 

Starve. Why honest Shadrach— though the hard- 
ness of the times prohibit me from buying, peradven- 
ture I may sell— there is some raiment, Thin, and I 
have long since discontinued that may suit thee— bring 
our left off apparel hither Jeremiah ; 

Thin. I will. [Exit Thin into house. 

Roch. 1 shall gif you more ash dey are worth, tho' 
de old clothes are not so much valued as dey ush'd 
to be. 

Enter Thin ? with old clothes. 

Starve. This was Jeremiah's upper covering, altho' 
its shape and nature now are somewhat hidden ; for 
the rats have eaten it half away. 

Roch, Vat musht I say for dese old tings ? dey 
sheem a good deal vore : upon my conshense dey are 
noting more dan ould raghs. 

Starve. Old rags, friend Shadrach ? And let me ask 
thee now in sober verity, what bringeth us more money 
than old rags? — they are more valuable now than 
gold. Do not the great ones of the land make six 
inches of old rag pass current for a thousand ? 

Roch. Yesh, my life, but the market is overstocket 
at preshent; and upon ma conshense, and ash I am an 
honest man, dey are not worth more than five sheelinsh. 

Starve. Five shillings! — guineas thou would say, 
friend Shadrach. I must deal with somebody else, 1 
see; these Hebrews have mostly some of their tribe at 
hand : yes, there'll soon be another come. 

Roch. I must give him any thing to get into the 
house. Veil, my life. 

Buck, (without.) Ould clothes ! — any ould clothes 
to shell? 

Starve. Either my auricular organ faileth of its 
function, or even now another Jew advanceth; I 
thought it would be so. 

Roch. Zounds ! who can this be ? I shall be found 
out— if he begins talking Hebrew to me, I'm lost. 

Enter Buckingham, disguised as a Jew. 

Buck. Any ould clothes to shell? Clothes shale ! 
clothes ! Zounds ! here's a real Jew here ; I hope he 
won't detect me. Good mornings, shentlemenshs— any 
thing in my small v vays dish morning ? 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 39 

Roth. De shentlemenshs are engaged to deal vid me ? 
prother. 

Starve. But you will not come up to ray terms : you 
see these habits, he hath not offered more than two 
crowns for them. 

Buck. I shall give you double de monish for dem at 
von vord ; I always likes to deal according to my con- 
shense ? I always am content with shent per shent. 

Roch. Oh curse his cent per cent ! I wish he had 
never been sent here ; I must outbid him. On shecond 
thoughts dey are pettersh den 1 took dem to be — so I 
shall gif you de five sheelinsh more den my worthy 
prother here ; you must be de pettersh customer ano- 
thers time. 

Buck. I have a customer for dem, so I sail gif you 
two ginnies for de whole lot ; And as heavensh ma judge, 
its every farden dey are worth. 

Starve. Verily, I have discovered a miracle ; apparel 
doth fetch more worn out than it doth cost when new. 

Roch. Two guineas ! Zounds ! I suspect this fellow 
never can be a genuine Jew. 

Starve. Jubilate ! I will sell to the highest bidder, 
Dost thou offer more, friend Shadrach ? 

Roch. I vil speak to my prother in Hebrew first- 
Salve Domine tu quoque ! 

Buck. That Hebrew ! Why zounds ! it sounds to 
me just like Latin : its very odd, but I must answer 
him. Psuche-— Psyche — ton kalon / 

Roch. Why he's talking Greek to me ; I do believe 
its Buckingham. Ma honesht prother, haven't I sheen 
you at Duke's Place ? 

Buck. Never was dere in ma life. 

Roch. I am sure I have seen you in te Strand — 
som where near Buckingham-street, tontyou eome from 
dere, if I may be so bold ? 

Buck. He knows me ; it must be Rochester vy I 
don't know ; but I think I have sheen you at Chatham. 

Roch. At Chatham ! 

Buck. Yes, very near Rochester. Come, Til gif you 
tree kinnies for dem tings. 

Roc. Tree pound ten sheelinsh. 

Buck. Four pound at a verd. 

Roch' Ten sheelinsh more. 

Buck. Five kinnies. 

Roch. O you knave ! to call yourself a Chew, and 









40 ROCHESTER; OR 

pid five kinnies for dese clothes. Mister Starveniouse y 
dish is an impostor, a sheat — I'll take my Bible oath he 
never was at shinnacog in all his porn daysh. 

Starve. A cheat, and offer me five guineas for my 
wardrobe here ! how can that be ? And then his beard 
— how can he have such a beard, and not be a Jew ? 

Roch. Noting more easy; I'll shave him directly. 
I took the uncircumcised dog by the troat, and smote 
him thus — dere — (pulls off Buckingham's beard.) 

Buck. Vat's cood for the coose is cood for the cander 
— dere — (pulls off Rochester's beard). 

Starve. I am amazed. 

Thin. This is the swiftest shaver I ever saw. 

Buck. Veil, my life, good tay, we shall teal another 
time. I shall shell you a pargain yet — cood day pro- 
ther ; ould clothes, ould clothes ! 

[Exit Buckingham. 

Starve. I will retire. My heart is astounded at the 
iniquity of man. Verily, I wonder the earth do not 
open ; go, go, thou naughty deceiver, depart in peace. 
Henceforth will I admit no male into my house, that 
my females may not be put into temptation. Come 
Jeremiah. 

Roch. Hear me, Mr. Thin. 

Thin. Get out. 

[Exit Starvemouse and Thin into the house. 

Roch. Zounds ! the old fox is too cunning to be 
caught. What's to be dome ? He will admit no male 
into his house, but he may admit a female — so once 
more for deception ; the third time may prove lucky ; 
I think I can make an old woman of myself out of the 
contents of this bag, or it's very hard; if I can but 
cheat old Starvemouse with some tale of a cock and a 
bull, and get in, I shall have the laugh against Buck- 
ingham (dresses as an eld woman). There, I think I 
look very much like a venerable mother abbess, or a 
reputable old aunt at the least ; so now for it, inven- 
tion assist me. " God ye good den," is the worthy young- 
gentlewoman of the house within, (knocks at the door.) 

Starvemouse and Thin come to the door; 

Starve. What fresh alarm is this ? An old woman, 
what can she want with me ? Woman, woman, why 



CHARLES Knd's MERRY DAYS 41 

troubles! thou our meditations thus. Speak to her, 
Jeremiah. 

Thin. I will (to Rochester), Be off. 

Roch. Are jou the young gentlewoman of the house 
then ? 

Starve. There will be no getting rid of her, till we 
hear what she has to say. No! 1 am of the male gen- 
der, woman, I am master of the domicile. 

Roch. I ask your worship's pardon, but I am rather 
dunny, and a little blindish, or so — age, your worship, 
age — seventy-four come next Lammas ; but, if you're 
the old gentleman, saving your presence, you won't do 
for me, I want the young lady ; if you'll send the 
young gentlewoman down, I'll let her know what I 
mean, in a minute. 

Starve. Hum ! some old clear starcher, I suppose. 
We must call Rebecca, or verily we shall have do 
peace; then we will adjourn unto the Horns— there is 
a feast toward to-day, at that same house of entertain- 
ment; it is right meet we go to it, seeing we have not 
yet broken our fasts. Bring out my hat and cane. 

Thin. I will. — Rebecca! [Exit Thin into the house. 

Enter Rebecca and Thin from house. 

Starve. One of thy gender here hath business with 
thee. We jeurney to the Horns ; see to the mansion 
in our absence, and take especial care of giddy Sylvia; 
Vale — Come, Thin, we will perambulate. Come, Je- 
remiah. 

Thin. I will. [Exit Starvemouse and Thin. 

Reb, Eh, what can this old woman want with me ? 
I never saw her before in my life ; how confused she 
looks ; surely she can't be the old witch that they say 
livei in the village — if she should — 

Roch. Bless your dear sweet ladyship's face; are 
you the young mistress of the mansion. 

Reb. (Enquiring after Silvia;) Oh, it must be the old 
witch. She looks like a witch ; she'll help the gipsies 
rarely ; I am the person you want— you're the old 
witch that lives in the village, an't you ? 

Roch. What ! yes ; bless your sweet ladyship. 

Reb. Well, this is lucky; come this way, and we'll 
commence conjurations directly. [Exeunt, 

G 



42 ROCHESTER; OR 

SCENE HI. 

Interior of Mouldy Hall. 

Duns, (discovered in the chest). Confound thi§ 
chest, I am almost smother'd, could I but procure one 
look of my dear Silvia, one glance from her bright eye* 
would surpass the sun that lights the roses. 

Tho' dimple cheeks may give the light, 

Where rival beauties blossom, 
Tho' balmy lips to love invite, 

To extacy the bosom. 
Yet sweeter far yon summer sky, 

Whose blushing tint discloses, 
Give me the lustre beaming eye, 

The sun thatlight3 the roses. 
The voice of love is soft and clear, 

Exciting fond emotion, 
How sweet it sounds upon the ear, 

Like music on the ocean. 
Yet dearer far to lovers' sight, 

The eye that truth discloses, 
Surpassing with its splendor bright, 

The sun that lights tke roses. 

What noise was that, here comes the old woman, I 
must get into my nest again. 

Enter Rebecca with Rochester. 

Reb. This way mother — this way — but let me tell 
you what I have brought you here for — you must know 
that there are two of your trade here already ; two 
young gipsies, they are consulting the planets for me. 
i brought you here that you mi^ht help them out, in 
case they should happen to be puzzled in their con- 
jurations. 

Roch. Help them out! — pray Heaven there be no 
truth in astrology, or they may chance to help me out. 

Conn* {without) Trine — Sigillum — nox in tempesta. — 
ecce signum. 

Red. But here they come — so you can attack the 
stars as soon as you like. 

Enter Countess and Lady Gay, as the Gipsies. 
Reb. Well, have you completed your enchantment. 
If you haven't, I've brought this good mother in to 
assist you, she's the old witch of the village. 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 48 

Court. Indeed ! oh, oh, Rochester, my gentleman, 
this is the plan, is it? — very well, we shall now see 
who reads the stars most deeply ; but as we have some 
mysteries to perform with the good mother here, would 
you wait in the next room 'till we call 5 they'll lose all 
their virtues if you were to hear them. 

Reb» To be sure I will ;. you'll be able to tell me all 
about the young man, 1 suppose. 

Lady G. Every syllable, bless your dear ladyship ! 

Rtb. That's right— I'll fit him, I warrant me. You 
shall have another piece of silver, before you go. 

[Exit Rebecca. 

Count. Thank you sweet madam !— Hail and good 
even to you mother ! — what sign's the moon in sister ? 

Lady Gay. Taurus ! 

Count. Ha ! so near the bull ! we must beware then 
of the horns. 

Roch. They are making a butt at me. 

Count. Mighty mother ! your knowledge must be 
prodigious — tell our fortunes fcr us — what dumb ! 
well then, if you won't tell our fortunes for us, sup- 
pose we tell you yours, our art is very potent — we've 
studied under Zoroaster, and Agrippa! — Hey presto 
pass! Abracadabra! — By the lines of your face, I can 
perceive that you are in league with a young noble- 
man, who passed himself off for a landlord, fell in love, 
or fancied he did so, with a miser's ward, dress'd him- 
self up like an old witch, gain'd admittance, met 
some real witches there, was dumb founded ; and 
instead of looking like an old woman, look'd very 
much like — 

Roch. A blockhead ! I know it — Zounds, wenches, 
you must be the wierd Sisters — but come, since you 
.have found out my secret, assist me in accomplishing 
my wishes ; and name your own reward. 

Count. By my art I can perceive, that the old miser 
and his man will soon return ; therefore, it won't do 
for you to stop here — you must be off directly ; as you 
pass Rebecca, squeeze her hand kindly, give her this 
paper, tell her the stars call you away; but that v, e 
will explain every thing — then hasten home, and in 
the middle of your dance, your fair one shall come to 
you enveloped in a white mantle. — Seize the opportu- 
nity, make good use of the moment, and forget not to 
be thankful to the gipsies, arbiters of your fortune, 



44 ROCHESTER; OR 

Rock. Mysterious beings !— but I'll obey you most 
religiously —here the old woman comes ! 

Lady G. Away then, and meet her — no words, or 
we shall raise our spells to punish you. — Remember 
the white mantle ! [Exit Rochester. 

Count. Oh, man, man, how easily you are gull'd, 
when woman plays the cheater; but here's the old 

Enter Rebecca. 

Reb. Dear me! what could the old witch mean? — 
squeezing my hand so tenderly, and telling me the 
gipsies would explain all— and what does this paper 
contain^ ? 

Count. A® assignation! That old witch was the 
young cavalier we spoke of, that paper appoints you 
to meet him within an. hour.— You must conceal your- 
self in this white mantle— obey us, and be happy. — 
You see we haven't raised our spells for nothing ; but 
we must mount our dragons, and away. 

The potent moment's come, our schemes to aid, 
Presto ! remember the white mantle maid. 

[Exeunt. 
Reb. I'll go to the Horns directly— Starvemouse 
won't know me in this veil, I shall be back before 
him ; and as for Silvia, IVe locked her in here, put 
the key in the iron chest, and as there's nobody in the 
house, the deuce must be in it, if she can get out. 

[Exit Rebecca. 

Enter Dunstable from the Iron Chest. 

JDunst. The deuce is in it, and she can get out. — * 
Rebecca couldn't be more accommodating, to throw 
me the key so apropos — Silvia ! Silvia ! [unlocks door, 
and lets out Silvia.) 

Enter Silvia. 

Silvia. Dunstable! 

Dun. We have not a moment to lose— we must be 
•ff, to love, happiness, and the parish clerk. 

[Exeunt, 



I 



CHARLES XInd's. MERRY DAYS. 4ft 

SCENE IV. 



Grand Chamber of the Inn, prepared for House Warm' 
ing. Banquet, fyc. 

Buckingham, Gruff Barney, Balaam, Bell, Countess 

and Lady Gay in their Servants' dresses, Joskin, 

Ploughtail, Starvemouse, Thin, and Lads and Lasses 

discovered. 

Chorus — (Omnes.) 

Come haste to our house warming, 
Lads gay, and lasses charming, 

And do whate'er you will; 
For if you gold could eat here, 
You'd freely with it meet here, 

And eat and drink your fill, 
But still between each biythe carouse, 
We'll drink success to our new house. 

With banquets, songs, and dances,, 
We'll sport till night advances, 

The walls we'll rarely cheer ; 
Tne more that come the better, 
Your host will still be debtor, 

For money can't come here : 
But still between each biythe carouse, 
We drink success to our new house ! 

Roch. Bell you rogue ! Balaam take care none of 
our friends lack refreshment. Where can Sylvia be, 
if these gypsies have deceived me, I'll never forgive 
them. 

Buck, (coming forward) Rochester has some new- 
design in his head, by his fidgeting about so, but I'll 
have an eye upon him. 

Count, (coming forward) Yonder I see is the old 
woman ; surely so many exposures must at last cure 
him. Have you got the candles ready. 

Lady Gay. All ready. 

Roch, Mr. Starvemouse, I trust you lack no refresh- 
ment. 



40 ROCHESTER; OR 

Starve. I lack nothing but appetite ! would I could 
eat more. Jeremiah hast thou filled thy stomach. 

Thin, I have. 

Starve. We shall not need to purchase for some 
weeks. 

Roch. Mr. Starvemouse, you are not going ; the 
dial only points to two, and we are going to set a dance 
on foot. You'll dance, Mr. Starvemouse ? 

Starve. Wilt thou dance, Jeremiah ? 

Thin. I will. 

Roch. Then I'll find you a partner. Come hither, 
our new chambermaid. 

Jer. Wilt thou dance? 

Coun. La, Sir ! I don't know how to dance; but 
I'll try. He'd make an excellent walking-stick. 

Starve! Verily, fair one, I'll cleave to thee. 

{to Lady Gay.) 

Roch. Now then we're all ready — let the dance 
begin. 

DANCE. 

(Rochester dances with a Villager, Thin with the 
Countess, Starvemouse with Lady Gay, Ba- 
laam with Bell, and the others with their several 
partners. In the middle of the dance Rechester 
steals off with Rebecca, who comes on disguised 
in a white mantle, and zvhom he mistakes for 
Sylvia. Buckingham steals off after him, as do 
the Countess and Lady Gay. Thin and 
Starvemouse dance together, put out the other 
dancers, break up the sport, and throw them all 
into confusion , the absentees are missed, and the 
drop falls on a picture.) 



END OF ACT SECONB. 



N 



CHARLES Hod's MERRY DAYS. 47 



ACT III. 



SCENE I. 



A Gallery in the Lin. — Two Chamber Doors right and 
lefty in fiat. 

Enter the Countess and Lady Gay (with candles). 

Count. This way my dear Lady Gay, this way, they 
are coming ; we will conceal ourselves till the moment 
of discovery arrives. I shall clap my hands as a signal ; 
be ready then to rush out. 

Lady Gay. Never doubt me. 
{Exeunt Countess and Lady Gay, through doors in fiat. 

Enter Rochester leading in Rebecca — Buckingham 

following. 

Roch. This way, my angel ; this way ! 

Buck. He's got her : I shall go mad ; it's all that 
wretch Balaam's doings. I'll break every bone in his 
body. 

Reb. Oh, Sir! Oh, my poor weak heart! Well, I 
declare, there's no resisting you — what poor frail crea- 
tures we poor innocent women are. I had intended to 
have been very severe with you, but you possess such 
power, somehow — I— oh, my lost heart. 

Rock. Why this agitation ! 

Reb. Oh, Sir! 

Buck. Death and the devil, I can't stand this. Ro- 
chester — Rochester ? 



43 ROCHESTER; OR 

Rock. Eh! Buckingham's voice, what the plague 
can he want. 

Buck. My dear fellow, this isn't fair, upon my soul 
it isn't: the girl belongs to me. 

Roch. No, no; I beg your pardon, — I courted her 
first. 

Reb. Heaven preserve me; what will become of 
me? 

Roch. You dear little angel ! 

Buck. You charmer. 

Both take a hand of Rebecca, and begin kissing it. 

Reb. Dear me, if the gentleman doesn't seem to have 
two pair of lips, for he's kissing both my hands at the 
same time. 

Roch, This way, my adorable ! 

Buck, This way, my cupid ! 

Reb, Oh, bless me; where am I being pulled to — 
help, help. 

(They struggle — Countess and Lady Gay rush out 
with candles, as they are both embracing Rebecca). 

Count. Any body call the chambermaid ? 

Roch. Confusion! an old woman. 

Buck, Zounds ! have I been kissing this old hag I 
foh ! I'm poisoned. 

Reb. Old woman ! old hag ! here's reprobates ; oh, 
you vile man, to steal my virgin kisses, and reward me 
in this way ; but you know you promised to marry me, 
but I'll be revenged. Ill rouse the whole village. I'll 
set Starvemouse to fight you. Our man Thin shall run 
you through, that he shall. 

[Exeunt Rebecca, Buckingham, and Lady Gay. 

Count. So, sir, this is the truth you swore to me ; 
you're a false, cruel, wicked, purjured man, you know 
you are, and I'll tell my mother of you, that's what I 
will ; and I'll never speak to you again, that's what I 
won't; and I'll hang myself in my garters, that's what 
I will ; and my ghost shall come and haunt you at 
night, that's what it shall, to make love to that old 
woman, after you said you loved me so; but my grand- 
mother told me you were all deceivers, that's what she 
did (cries violently). I'll never believe you again, I 
won't, as long as I live ; no, you base cruel man, I 
won't. 

Roch. Zounds ! my love, don't cry so. 

Count. But I will cry. 



CHARLES Unci's MERRY DAYS. 49 

Roch. I cannot bear to view those tears ; it breaks 
my heart to see you weep. 

Count. But I will weep, I like to weep ; it does me 
good to weep ; break your heart, you've broke mine 
I'm sure. 

Roch. How the deuce shall I pacify her; she'll 
alarm the whole place; they'll think there's a mad 
bull in the Horns — hear me. 

Count. If it had been a young woman, I woudn't so 
much have minded ; but an ugly old woman like that, 
it's more than any woman can bear. 

Roch. It's all a mistake my love, upon my soul it is, 
I took her for you. 

Count. Did you though; and are you sure you're 
not telling fib^now ? 

Roch. Believe me, I did. 

Count. And do you love me indeed, and indeed — and 
as true as you stand there, and upon your word and 
honour. 

Roch. I swear it, and to prove it — 

SONG (Rochester). 

A fig for nonsensical speeches, 

For sighing and dying, and stuff, 
Dear girl, 'tis a man that beseeches, 

I love you, and that is enough. 
To pronounce you a goddess were lying, 

To swear you're a charmer is true, 
Then why should I vow I am dying, 

When I mean to live ages for you. 

Your beauty might any heart fetter, 

I've mettle enough as you'll prove, 
The less that is said then, the better, 

For I am for action my love ! 
When the time and the place arc inviting, 

My love shall your kindness repay, 
You will not shun danger by slighting, 

For danger still lies in delay. 

Count. You'll marry me in a church ? 

Roch. I must pacify her — yes ; yes. 

Count. Well then, and I'll believe you are as true 
as you say, and I'll dry upmy tears, and go to work 
again— thank'ye, I hope I shall aever catch you mak- 



60 ROCHESETER; OR, 

ing love to any body again — I shall break my heart if 
I do—good bye ! [Exit Countess. 

Roch. A pretty business I've made of it — truly these 
country amours are not so pleasant as I had antici- 
pated — those cursed gypsies to deceive me so. 



Enter Buckingham. 

Buck. Damn that old woman — 

Roch. Well partner in disappointment, we can't, at 
all events laugh at one another ! 

Buck. I've had the deuce to pay ! the old woman is 
gone off storming like a fury ! and that foolish cook 
because I happened to say a few civil things to her in 
the course of the afternoon — has been going into fits 
all along, of my parfidy^ as she calls it — It was'nt till 
I promised to marry her, that I could bring her too. 

Roch. I tell you what my friend, this life of inno- 
cence and simplicity doesn't turn out so pleasant as I 
expected— I'm tired of pastoral scenes, and long to re- 
visit town again — but then, you'll say, there is our 
exile — how to be recall'd — to-morrow the Newmarket 
races begin — to day the King will pass through this 
Village in his way to them ; this day therefore will 
Rochester see, if he can't jockey His Majesty— it won't 
be the first time— Allons, my dear buck — the morning 
dawns, and we have much to do ! 

[Exit Rochester and Buckingham. 



SCENE II. 

A Country Landscape* 

Enter Muddle, Squeak, and Constables. 

Mud. Are the whole possey common ten toes of the 
parish dissembled ? 

Squeak. Yes, your worship— man and boy, and 
Squeak! ha! ha! hum! 



CHARLES Hud's MERRY DAYS. #1 

Mud. Well, then neighbours, I may translate to 
you the reason of our coming here. Master Starve- 
mouse's ward has got the key, and run away with a 
heathen player — a votary of Thisbe and Othello ! — 
they've made an assassination to meet somewhere con- 
tiguous to this spot — now Master Starvemouse is de- 
termined to persecute them according to law — so who- 
ever falls on their habeas corpusses, may appropriat# 
them at their own penalty in the watch-house, under the 
peril and authority of the King's Majesty, like a loyal 
and most deficient subject. 

Squeak. Amen ! long live the King ! the mayor ! and 
Squeak the cryer !— it shall be as your worship says ! 

Mud. Bless me! if I can believe my oraculac in- 
spections, here they come— and answer the inscription 
of their persons in every defect. 

Enter Dunstable and Silvia. 

Sieze them, the traitorous benefactors! — emancipate 
them ! — bring them along ] 

Dimst. Zounds, rascais, what are you at ? unhand 
me slaves ; or by the bright heavens — 

Mud. I'm perfectly analized and perforated at the 
omnipotence of the scoundrel — we must attempt a 
rescue, friends — or he'll make a misdemeanor of us. 

Dunst. But what means all this— 1 am paralysed ! 

Mud. His conscience is beginning to phlebotomize him 
— I am happy to see such signs of repugnance in you — 
you are a most illustrious contemporray — you have been 
perpetrating terrible contortions — and must be exag- 
gerated in the watch-house— you have been guilty of 
felony, in stealing this young woman, so you must 
both be united in safe custody— yes, unite them and — 

Dunst. United, rascal ! — that's what we mean to be 
— so, away ! — or by Cupid ! 

Mud. Here's an incendiary— oh, that we had some 
of the malicious officers of the next town at hand ; but 
I'll make a pattern of him — Barnacle him with the 
handcuffs there — I'll make an abominable restitution 
of him — away there — barnacle him, I say. 

Silvia. Mercy ! mercy ! your worship — indeed we 
have done no mischief. 

Mud. Not yet, but you may — an't you going to get 
married— so, barnacle them both — I'll make a rare 



*2 ROCHESTER; OR, 

pair of spectacles of them— -now then, away with them 
— for I'm incorrigible ! 

Silvia. Oh, spare me ! spare me ! 

Muddle, Squeak, and Constables, are forcing them 
ojK when Rochester enters hastily. 

Rock, Ah ! the voice of a female in distress, when 
did it ever reach the manly heart in vain r — unhand 
heir scoundrels !— by heaven 'tis Silvia ! I must make 
short work of it here— out sword ! — now, dogs ! un- 
loose—or i'iaith I'll tickle some of your catastrophes 
ibr you ! 

Dunstable is borne ojf'by Constables. 

Mud. Here's an exquisite assassin for you— got his 
toldedo out ! oh, you most sanguine and blood thirsty 
determinate!*. 1 wish somebody would read the riot 
act to us— to put a corporation in bodily fear ! but no- 
lens volens — needs must when his reverence drives — 
as they've carried oft' the arch convict, you may have 
the stolen property — we've got the man — so you may 
take the baggage. I'm extended with horrifieation ! 

[Exit Muddle, Squeak, &c. 

Jioch. Now, then sweet girl, you are in my power ! 

Silvia. 1 know it ; and therefore am J safe, for as a 
man you will not abuse the power that chance has 
given you. 

Eoch. Certainly not; but dearest Silvia, I have 
long admired you ! I have, perhaps, saved your life ; 
and — 

Silvii Now do a nobler act, preserve my honour. — 
Love never was unaccompanied by generosity ; if you 
indeed love me, you will value my peace too much to 
destroy it, by rending two hearts asunder, that have 
long been devoted to each other. 

Jioeh. All powerful nature, how potent is thy 
sway ? Silvia, you have conquered me. — The honour 
of woman should always be kept sacred, when entrusted 
to the honour oi man. I am a giddy, dissipated, idle 
fellow; but though my gallantry may sometimes have 
caused a blush on the cheek of beauty, my perfidy 
never planted a thorn in her heart, or disturbed the 
e of those doves that nestled in her bosom — I 



CHARLES Hud's MERRY DAYS. 53 

will conduct you to the inn. — As we proceed, you shall 
relate your story, and I'll devise prompt means to 
make you happy ! 

Silv. Ten thousand thanks! Could my grateful 
heart reward you ! 

Poch. It is unnecessary, I am amply paid. — Yes; 
my own heart rewards me, and 1 feel how richly the 
reflection of a good action repays the happy mortal 
who performs it — This way — then to entrap the King 
—and bring this pastoral of mine to a conclusion ! 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE III. 

A Wood. 

Enter Courtiers in Hunting Dresses. 

1st Cour. Where stays his Majesty ? — the deer is 
roused and off. 

2nd Cour. My life on't !— he's tarrying at some 
hunting lodge, toying with the keeper's daughter. 

Srd Cour. You're on a wrong scent for once — he 
approaches. 

Enter King Charles. 

Charles. Have no tidings been gain'd where Buck- 
ingham and Rochester have taken up their quarters ? 

1st Cour. None, your Majesty ! 

Charles. 'Tis strange ! they're out upon some fresh 
frolic ; 1 don't know how it is ; but somehow the com- 
pany of those graceless gallants seem necessary to my 
existence — I know their follies; but methinks their 
better qualities excuse them, I have not been myself 
since they departed. 

2nd Cour. Will your Majesty pursue your sport? 

Charles. No, I shall hunt no more to-day, — You 
may at your pleasure. — L shall ramble through the 
village incognito — The deer run down, you can rejoin 
me there. — I am not well, the exertion will but weary 
me, ray lords ! away ! — Your horns will guide me to 
you, when the sport is over. 

[Exeunt. 



54 ROCHESTER; OR 



SCENE IV. 



A Country Village* 

Balaam discovered erecting a stage, 

Bal. When will there iniquities end — he says this 
is the finish of them, heaven grant it. 

Rochester enters in a Mountebank's Dress. 

Roch. I think this will do— yes, I shall be able to 
play "The Mock Docter, or the Monarch Taken in" 
most charmingly on that stage. Your are sure the 
King is coming, this way, you say ? 

Bal. Yes, I met him at| the other end of the village 
coming straight onwards — so he must pass by here — 
I knew him for all he was in his hunting dress— what 
will it all end in ? 

Roch. But we must give a signal — blow the trumpet 
Balaam — the bumpkins are beginning to assemble — I 
must commence operations — hark'ye Balaam— can you 
play the Jack Pudding, Sirrah 1 
Bal. The saints forbid ! 

Roc. Why you've play'd the tom-fool often enough 
rascal — but you can receive the money for me, I sup- 
pose ? 

Bal. Yes ; and keep it too — but T hope you haven't 
put any poison in the physic ? Don't let us be guilty 
of murder! 

Roch. Make your mind easy on that score, Sir— If 
there's nothiug to do my patients good in my nostrums 
there's nothing to do them harm — I give them pepper- 
mint for paragoric ! and I've mixed up some most 
excellent brown bread bolussus — though I'm only 
dubb'd Doctor by my own diploma, I don't know 
but what I'm as well qualified as any of them — but we 
must commence— Balaam, blow the trumpet ! Balaam ! 

Enter Floughtail, Joskin, Villagers, and Gruff Barney. 

Bar. Odds flesh neighbours! but here be the 
Mountebank Doctor here— I wonder if he has got 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 55 

any stuff that will make a man grow ten years 
younger. 

Plough. Dan't knaw master Barney— but where be 
the merry andrew— dang it now, but his funny tricks 
do always do I more good than all the potticarry's 
stuff. 

Rock. Charle9 doats upon Quacks— and if I can but 
attrack his attention, and pursuade him to purchase my 
nostrums — I'll give him such an opiate as shall effec- 
tually prevent his leaving Newport to night — but he 
comes— I must mount and begin — Balaam where are 
the pill boxes and phials, sirrah ? 

Bal. Here they be, sir, filled with abomination and 
deceit — like you and me — oh, dear ! 

Enter Charles. 

Roch. Now myfriends, customers, countrymen, and 
patients — I request your patient hearing ; you are 
now going to hear what you never heard before — nor I 
dare say, will ever again. Blow the trumpet, Balaam ! 

Bar. Odds flesh ! he be beginning— there be merry 
andrew, trumpeting behind — deadly lively, for sartin ! 

Charles. I'll listen to this fellow ! these country prac- 
titioners often possess more skill than those from col- 
lege — I feel greatly unwell, though I cannot, to save 
my life, tell what's the matter with me — this Galen 
may discover. 

Roch. Silence there, and hear me, for my words are 
more precious than gold — I am the renowned and far- 
famed Doctor Paracelsus, Bombastes Esculapius, 
Galen dam Humbug von Quack— member of all the 
colleges under the Moon ! M. D. L. M. D.— F. R< S.— 
L. L. D — A. S. S. — and all the rest of the letters in 
the alphabet — I am the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son- 
kill or cure is my motto — and I always do it — I cured 
the great emperor of Nova Scotia of a Polybbus after 
he'd been given over by all the faculty — he lay to all 
appearance dead — the first pill he took, he opened his 
eyes — the second he raised his head — and the third — 
he jump'd up and danc'd a hornpipe, didn't he Balaam ? 

Bal. I saw him do it. 

Roch. I don't want to sound my own praise — blow 
the trumpet Balaam ! but I tapp'd the great cham of 
Tartary at a sitting, of a terrible dropsy — so that I didn't 
leave a drop in him ! 



5G ROCHESTER; OR 

Bar. Oddsflesh! but he mun be a clever lad; 
I'll take him to my wife ; she do want tapping mor- 
tally. 

Rock. I cure the palsy, the dropsy, the lunacy, and 
all the sighs, without costing any body a sigh — vertigo, 
perigo, lumbago, and all the other go's are sure to go 9 
whenever I come. 

Charles. This fellow amuses me ; if his physic is 
like his logic, he is a rare dog indeed, half my vapours 
are gone already. 

Roch. I am fearful I do not make myself heard, 
friends ; blow the trumpet, Balaam ; but to what more 
immediately concerns ourselves. I have a very great 
regard for you all. I love you as if you were my own 
flesh and blood, and to prove it, I mean this very day 
to make you all a present of five shillings ! 

Plough. Oddsflesh now, but that be kind indeed. 
Bar. Deadly kind for sartin ; our doctor, old gally- 
pot, do always take five shillings instead of giving. 
Bal. What freak be he going at now ? 
Charles. Give them five shillings; why this is a 
genius indeed. 

Roch. Yes, my friends ; I'll make you all a present 
of five shillings. 

Omnes. Hurrah ! I be ready. 
Roch. Yes ; you see these pill boxes ? 
Bar. What, be there five shillings in them ? 
Roch. These boxes of pills are worth seven and six- 
pence each, or they be worth nothing. 
Bal. That be more likely. 

Roch. Now to oblige you, and put money in your 
pockets, I'll let you have them at half a crown a- 
piece, whereby I shall give each of you a clear five 
-shillings. 

Bar. So he will ! oddsflesh ! I'll ha' one of them ; 
here be my half crown. 

Omnes. And here be mine, and mine. 
Roch. Taken fasting for a fortnight, they'll put an 
end to every disease under the sun. 
Charles. Yes, along* with the patient. 
Muddle, (without). Here's a profusion of tongues, 
what is all this ? 

Bar. His worship the Mayor! oh, dang it, we 
naun be off. 

[Exeunt Barney and Villagers. 



CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAY& 57 

Charles. A singular fellow this ? Have you no spe- 
cific for a saddened spirit, no balsam to relieve a 
weary mind. 

Roch. Here is one that never yet has failed, one 
that will lull all your disquiets into rest, and restore 
joy and peace to your bosom, though they may for 
years have been a stranger to it, although broken 
friendship and forgotten kindness may disturb your 
conscience, this will be a balm ; so powerful is its ope- 
ration, that one drop will be sufficient. 

Charles. Indeed ! I'm curious to try his virtue ; 
what is the price of such a treasure ? 

Roch. From one like you, sir, I cannot expect 
less than a erown. 

Charles. Zounds ! what does the fellow mean ? A 
crown ! surely he don't know me ; however, I'll hu- 
mour him, — I feel weary. Is there no decent house 
in this village, where I can repose awhile? 

Roch. There is the inn I put up at ; I will conduct 
you there if you chuse. 

Charles. Be it so. On my way, I'll try your 
opiate. [Exit Charles. 

Roch. I have him — oh ! Charles, Charles, what a 
royal gull has Rochester made of you. 

[Exit Rochester. 



SCENE THE LAST. 

Interior of the Inn, as before, 
Charles discovered. 

Charles. Yes ; I must make myself as comfortable 
here, as I can for the night — I cannot conceive tho', 
howl can have come in this situation. Yaw-aw — I 
declare if I an't even sleepy now ; I must go early to 
bed. 
(Noise without, and cries of " The King, the King." J 



S3 ROCHESTER; OH 

Enter Rochester in waiters dress, and Buckingham, 

Roch. Is it not strange that I. can never leave my 
house for a single moment, but confusion must arise. 
Who are you thus impudently reposing in my apart- 
ment ? Why, there were some rogues at the gate just 
now, said that you was the king. 

Charles. My suite ! Concealment then is unneces- 
sary. Well, sir, and so I am. 

Roch Ha I ha ! ha ? A pretty fellow for a king ! 
why here's an impostor for you. 

Buck. 'Tis a plan to rob the house, this chap is in 
league with those outside ; what an ill-looking fellow 
it is ; but hark'ye sirrah, if you're the king, you can 
tell us whether it is true, that the king has pardoned 
Buckingham and Rochester. 

Charles. True; no — who ever thought of such a 
thing ! a couple of scoundrels like those. 

Buck. Oh, this confirms it at once; I say the king 
has pardoned them. 

Charles. I say he has not ; he won't, he shan't. 

Roch. It's a clear case; it's a plot against our lives; 
here, Balaam ! Barney ! help ! here, help. 

Enter Balaam and Barney. 

Secure that fellow, lock him up in the cellar. 

Charles. Confusion ! the cellar! nay, but hear me. 

Roch. Will you confess then, that the King has 
pardoned Rochester and Buckingham ? 

Charles. Zounds ! 1 see through it at once ; these 
are the rascals themselves; but they shall not gain 
their point — they dare not carry on this farce much 
farther; my suite will soon arrive, and — . 

Roch. Come, sir, confess that the king has pardoned 
Rochester and Buckingham, and that you are an im- 
postor ! 

Charles. Never ! — traitors— never ! 

Roch. Then away with him to the cellar, lock him 
up ; away with him— don't hear a word. 
„ Bar. I don't wish to be uncivil, but to the cellar 
you go now. 

Bai. I shall be hanged and drawn and quartered for 









CHARLES Ilnd's MERRY DAYS. 5& 

high treason — oh dear, my head will be stuck on 
Temple Bar. 

Charles. Scoundrels, I'll hang you. 

Charles is hurried off by Balaam and Barney. 

Buck. Why this is a bold measure, Rochester. 

Roch. Ha ! ha ! ha ? Tush man, I know my Royal 
master's disposition well. Shall I fear his resentment? 
Charles is the essence of wit and good humour com- 
bined — he will not hold it out long — we shall gain our 
pardons, and though he may be angry at first, he'll 
laugh at the joke bye and bye. 

Enter Barney. 

Bar. I've put him in the cellar, please your honor; 
but he's making the devil of a row ; shall I give him 
any thing to drink ? 

Roch. Aye, you may take him some water if you 
like, Barney. 

Bar. And hadn't I better take him half a truss or 
so, of straw, in case he should want to lay down — it 
will be but civil like, for there isn't a whisp of any 
thing there, only the bare bricks. 

Roch. Aye, any thing you like. [Exit Barney. 
Countess and Lady Gay (speak without). 

Enter Balaam. 

Bal. Sir, here's the two ladies have been asking such 
a power of questions about you. 

Roch. Confusion ! where are these ladies ? 

Bal. They're here. 

Roch. What is to be done? W T e certainly gave 
these women a bond of constancy, and must as cer- 
tainly break the penalty as we have broken the bond 
— here they come ! 

Enter Countess and Lady Gay, in their travelling 
dresses. 

Your servant, ladies ! 

Count. Where, sir, are our servants ? Ah ! sir, you 
may well blush— I thought how long you'd keep your. 






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